


Loophole

by Lilli_Ernesto



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Bodyguard with Benefits, F/M, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilli_Ernesto/pseuds/Lilli_Ernesto
Summary: A careless scientist with a death threat over her head.A by-the-book tactical officer responsible for her safety.Arguments, assassination attempts and the Denobulan way of easing tension.- smut was inevitable...slow burn...
Relationships: Malcolm Reed/Original Character(s), Malcolm Reed/Original Female Character(s), Malcolm Reed/Other(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Morning Briefing

**Author's Note:**

> The main objective of this fanfiction was to get Malcolm Reed laid. Repeatedly. As I don’t seem to be able to write PWP, there is also quite a lot of plot and stuff. Hang in there. Smut is happening in later chapters, I promise.  
> This fic is by many means a first: My first explicit fic. My first Star Trek fic. My first multi chapter fic in English – though not my first fanfiction by far.  
> Any comments and corrections are always welcome.  
> A big hug goes out to A-C, best beta-reader, special friend and fellow Reed girl.

Captain Archer’s brows were pulled into a deep frown as he turned in his chair and faced the two officers he had called to his ready room. He still did not like what he had to tell them. With those two at least he was sure he would not get any annoying discussions. T’Pol stood straight like always, her face showing only the tiniest hint of mild interest. Beside her, Lieutenant Reed displayed an even straighter back, hands clasped firmly behind his back. Archer could not remember seeing one of them relaxed ever. He took one deep exhale before breaking the news.

“Admiral Forrest contacted me this morning. He had an urgent – request – he called it, but I am certain he will make it an order before long. Enterprise is to escort a scientist to the neutral outpost at Acada Prime for an interstellar conference. Apparently, this is some great honor for humankind and a breakthrough in interspecies relations. When I asked him why he needed our vessel for this affair, I learned that speed is of utmost importance and that there are certain security issues involved.”

At this, one of Reed’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Archer quickly skimmed his monitor to reconfirm the facts. 

“Professor Dubois is one of the leading experts in biological Exoanthropology. Her research has been causing quite a stir in the scientific community. Apparently, not only on earth. There are some who accuse her of being politically motivated. Fact is she has been receiving numerous death threats recently. Three days ago a conduit in her lab exploded injuring one of her staff. Some people obviously fear her ideas being exposed to a wider audience.”

“Dr. Phlox showed me her recent paper some weeks ago,” T’Pol threw in. “She does excellent work, very precise setups and analysis. Her conclusions, however, are somewhat… bizarre.”

“Bizarre enough to murder her?” Reed asked doubtfully.

“She compares space faring species on multiple levels – from genome to behavior to cultural analogies. Her speculation is that at least some of them share a common origin on a deep down ancient level.”

“I can see how this might cause uproar among certain people.” Archer put a PADD on his desk and gave it a little shove in Reed’s direction. “In three days we will pick up Prof. Dubois on Jupiter Station. I am making her safety your priority, Lieutenant. You will find all available information here. Let’s bring her back safe and sound.”

Reed nodded and took the PADD. “Yes, Sir.”

“There might be some problems concerning her stay at Acada Prime,” T’Pol noted.

“How so?”

“I have been there before. It is an outpost solely intended for civilian scientific exchange. Only scientists are allowed to attend. Weapons or security details of any kind are strictly banned.”

“I am sure Mr. Reed will think of something.” Archer wanted this to be over soon. His mission was exploration not chauffeur services involving possible assassinations. “Dismissed.”


	2. Boarding

Isabelle Dubois, worldwide acclaimed scientist with interstellar publications and all around fearless person, could not keep her hands still. No matter how often she placed them firmly into her lap, they refused to stay there. Instead, they kept gripping the arm rests of her seat, fidgeting with her blue scarf or twisting a strand of her curly hair. Halfway through the shuttle trip she had to admit it: She was nervous.

Nervous – that was as far as she was willing to go. If she did not draw a line there, what would come next? Afraid? Terrified? That was not going to happen. So she squared her shoulders, interlinked her fingers and concentrated on the view. It did not have the calming effect she had wished for. They were just crossing the asteroid belt. On her last trip to Jupiter Station, she had really enjoyed watching out of the tiny window. Today it just made her more nervous.

During the past few days she had not felt threatened. But then she had been on Earth. Solid ground underneath her feet, an endless supply of fresh air all around her. Here in space she felt exposed. Vulnerable. So many things could malfunction. The hull of the shuttlepod was awfully thin. Outside, the freezing vacuum lay waiting endlessly.

Isabelle shuddered and started a conversation with the pilot. As she listened to his praise of the spaceship she was going to board, her shoulders started to relax. Phrases like “fastest ship in the fleet” and “combat tested crew” washed over her. Her determination returned. She was going to attend her first interstellar conference. Full stop. Nobody would scare her off. No one would stand in her way. As they were catching the first glimpse of the space station, her confidence was securely in place. 

The airlock glided open and there was Captain Jonathan Archer himself welcoming her onboard. She had seen pictures of him. None of them did him justice. He eradiated a kind of down-to-earth confidence and optimism. Obviously, he also possessed the ability to smile at her despite the circumstances. 

“Thank you, Captain.” She managed to sound just as jovial as him. “I deeply regret throwing you so far off course.”

“That is what happens when you command the only Starfleet ship with a Warp 5 engine,” Archer admitted. “We will have you at Acada Prime with time to spare.” He half turned to the man on his right side. “Meet my armory officer Lieutenant Reed. He and his team will be responsible for your safety throughout the whole trip.”

“Professor.” The short man’s handshake was rather brief and military. Not a trace of smiling optimism here.

“I am sure he would like to familiarize you with the security protocol as soon as possible. I let you get settled in. Feel free to join me at the captain’s mess for dinner at 1900.”

Well, he surely was not one to waste any words. Nevertheless, Isabelle tried for the first smile of the day as she answered: “Thank you for the invitation. I will be delighted to attend.”

Archer nodded. “See you there.” And without further ado he strode off, undoubtedly to the bridge to oversee their departure.

That left Isabelle alone with the stern looking officer and one of his crewmen in the background.

“Is this your complete luggage?” Reed pointed at the voluminous bag she had set down beside her feet. A smaller one hung on a strap from her shoulder.

“It is.”

“May I?” He grabbed the handle with one hand and took a small scanning device out of his pocket with the other. Blue light fell on his face, when he turned it on.

“What are you doing?”

He took some moments to answer, keeping his eyes fixed on the tiny monitor. “Scanning for explosives, dangerous bio matter, suspicious chemical compounds, you name it.” His distinctly British accent did nothing to sooth her irritation. On the contrary.

“Explosives that I have put there…myself?” Security or not, this was ridiculous.

Finally he passed her a glance, eyebrows raised suggestively. “So you kept your bag with you all the time. Never let it out of your hand, not to say sight, during your whole journey?”

Isabelle did not reply. Of course she failed to meet these standards. Who would?

“Thought so.” The scanner vanished again. “Luckily, it seems to be clear. This way please, Professor.” Reed took the bag and moved ahead. Lost for words, Isabelle followed him, the second crewmember at her heels.

 _Breathe deeply_ , she reminded herself. She had been under a lot of stress lately and it did not do to take it out on the people going out of their way to help her. Like the crew of the Enterprise. Like Starfleet for that matter. Nevertheless, she could not stop herself glaring at the back of Reed’s head while the words “smug bastard” floated through her mind.

On their way through the corridors, Isabelle managed to get rid of her annoyance. Perhaps she was too distracted by the impression this state-of-the-art spaceship made on her. Everything seemed so clean and efficient. It did not compare to the two other Warp-capable ships she had travelled on in recent years. Perhaps it was also due to the fact that Lieutenant Reed did nothing more to make her feel sloppy. He merely pointed out the location of several facilities like the mess hall or sickbay and gave her a general idea of the ship’s layout.

Her quarters were the best she had ever had on any space trip. No bunk bed, no shared showers, but a single bed of almost normal size, a desk and a tiny bathroom behind a partition wall. There was even enough space to turn around without bumping into anything. This was luxury. She suspected some unfortunate junior officer had to move to personnel quarters for the journey.

The pleasant surprises ended there. After demonstrating the security code for her door, Reed set down her bag on the bed and started opening it. Time to intervene.

“Excuse me, Mr. Reed. What is that going to be?”

“A thorough search of all items in the target person’s immediate surroundings. Standard procedure for personal security. If you would place your smaller bag here as well…”

“But you scanned it already.”

“Better safe than sorry, Professor.”

Isabelle told herself that he was not irritating her on purpose. The man was only doing his job, following protocol to the book. She should be nothing but grateful and cooperative. But something about his demeanor just rubbed her the wrong way.

“Listen, there is nothing more interesting in this bag than my strapless bra,” she exclaimed exasperatedly. “If that poses a threat to security, feel free to confiscate it.”

That finally stopped him. She saw the muscles of his shoulders tense underneath his uniform. When he turned to face her, his blue eyes burned with barley suppressed anger.

“I regret any inconvenience on your behalf, Professor. Be assured, I want this over with as much as you do.”

Isabelle did not need the training of a tactical officer to know when to withdraw. So she just dropped into the armchair in front of the desk. Arms folded, lips pursed, she nodded for him to continue. He did so as quickly as possible.

Isabelle watched him taking out every item and spreading it on the bed. He felt not comfortable with this, that much was obvious. When he opened the side pocket containing her underwear, he hesitated for a split second. Isabelle felt herself smirking. Squeamish around a lady’s panties, Lieutenant? That was a bit of information too good not to use. She waited till his fingers pulled out her fanciest pants – dark blue satin with lace trimming – to remark innocently: “These are nice ones, aren’t they?”

This did not elicit any immediate reaction, which disappointed her at first. Then she noted a deep redness spreading from the back of his neck to his ears. Smiling, she finally relaxed and did nothing more to disturb him. He was finished soon enough and started to brief her on the rest of the security protocol.

One security detail would be stationed outside her door at all times. He or she would also accompany her whenever she left her quarters. Isabelle just nodded. She refrained from asking if he really feared one of his crewmates was going to murder her.

He did not look her in the eye during those explanations. The tips of his ears still glowed red against his dark hair. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“Safety measures could be adapted most efficiently if I knew your daily schedule.”

“I don’t follow a daily schedule,” Isabelle answered honestly.

Reed blinked a couple of times. “Perhaps some fixed items, which are on your agenda every day?”

“Well, if you put it like that: I rise when I wake. I grab a cup of coffee. I work. I do stuff. I forget to eat till my assistant drags me to the cafeteria. I work some more. Do more stuff. I go to bed way too late. Repeat.”

This time it was Reed’s turn to look baffled. He blinked some more. “Very well. There should be no problem. If you have any concerns about the protocol, observe anything out of the ordinary or feel threatened, please contact me at any time.”

Isabelle stood up. “Thank you, Mr. Reed.”

He just gave a sharp nod before turning to leave. “Professor.”

As the door glided shut behind him, Isabelle sank on the bed and buried her face in her hands. The tension keeping her wound up tight all day finally dissipated. All by herself she could put the facade of the fearless professor aside. It had been a nasty facade just now. Teasing that poor man to cover up her nervousness. Making fun of his security measures only to avoid admitting that her life actually depended on them. Tomorrow she was going to apologize to him. Perhaps they could start all over.

First of all, she should put away her underwear. The smirk resurfaced when she picked up her blue panties. That had not been 100% due to the snappy facade. It had just been too easy. She simply had been carried away. That must not happen again. She was the one with a death threat hanging over her head and he the one to protect her. Better not to piss him off.

As the stars outside her window turned to thin shiny lines, she felt her heartbeat picking up speed, too. Finally she was on her way to Acada Prime. No other Earth vessel could match Enterprise’s speed. Perhaps she could keep ahead of danger just long enough to deliver her talk. Things did not look all that bad. Perhaps…


	3. Breakfast

Even under normal circumstances Malcolm Reed was not a rise-and-shine kind of person. Rise he did of course, exactly on time, never too late for his duty. But shine – well, that was not part of his behavioral repertoire.

The morning after Isabelle Dubois had come on board, his mood was just shy of abysmal. He sat in the mess hall on his own, scaring off every crewmate with the dark look on his face. The scrambled eggs on his plate, otherwise more than decent, today tasted like cardboard mixed with chalk. The coffee was barely drinkable. He seemed to be the only one to notice. Everybody else was chatting merrily along, offensively enjoying their breakfast. He took one more sip, pulled a face and concentrated once again on his PADD. Better to get ahead of schedule. Considered his team could keep something resembling a schedule with this horrible woman around.

He had to force himself not to grind his teeth every time he thought of her. The humiliation still burned in his guts. If she treated people that way regularly, she had no right to complain about death threats.

A bright “Good Morning” interrupted his murderous thoughts. Charles Tucker shoved back the chair with his foot and put his tray down on the table. The chief engineer had never been bothered with his crewmate’s bad moods. He was a way too shiny person, not only in the morning.

Malcom grumbled something almost resembling human speech.

“Ah, just up to your best cheery self today, I see.” Tucker took a big gulp of his coffee, then started to dig in. “So what about our honored guest? Haven’t had the chance to meet her yet.”

Of course Tucker could not leave it alone. He would pester Malcolm until he got something out of him. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t care. First impressions, funny incidents, anything.”

“She is more trouble than she’s worth.”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. Rumor has it you already had your hands in her underwear.”

Malcolm shot him a look that would have Klingons cower in a corner. It did not even wipe the grin off Tucker’s face.

“You must admit, it sounds better if you tell it that way,” the engineer chuckled before shoving more food into his mouth. “I never thought you’d be the type to go after older women.” Commander Charles Tucker III, called Trip, obviously harbored a death wish. Malcolm pressed his lips together and swallowed the desire to shove his friend and colleague out of an airlock.

“She’s not old. She’s forty-one.”

“Has your father never taught you not to reveal a lady’s age?”

“She’s no lady either.”

This statement was met with more chuckling. “Do not let her hear this. Here she comes.”

Malcolm closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He summoned every ounce of patience he possessed, and then turned his head to gaze at the door. There she stood skimming the mess hall, crewman Pointer dutifully at her heels. Malcolm hastily shifted his attention back to his PADD. Better to avoid her when duty did not call. Perhaps she was just here to grab a coffee, as she had put it yesterday.

But his personal luck seemed to be out on shore leave. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her heading straight towards their table. Her feet just stopped two steps away.

“Good morning, Mr. Reed.” She sounded neither teasing nor rude but almost timid. “I came to apologize to you.”

He looked up in surprise to see her square her shoulders.

“I have been under a lot of stress lately but that does not excuse my behavior yesterday. Be assured, it won’t happen again. I sincerely regret any offence you might have taken. Please accept my apology. Maybe we can start all over again.”

Malcolm could almost hear Tucker’s jaw dropping during that speech. His own stayed firmly put. But even a critical assessment detected nothing but honesty in her coffee brown eyes. He felt the entire mess hall staring at them.

“It’s alright,” he uttered, wishing she would just leave him alone. Honestly, what was she thinking, making a fuss in front of the whole ship?

Prof. Dubois did not seem to get the hint. “I have been thinking. If it would make things easier for you and your team, we could set up a schedule for me to follow. It’s only for a few days after all.”

“Fine. We can discuss this later.”

“Certainly. See you then.” Finally she turned and made her way to the beverage dispenser. A dozen pairs of eyes hastily returned to the plates in front of them. Conversations continued a little bit too casually. Unfortunately, this included Commander Tucker.

“Malcolm, I take back everything I’ve said. Go for it, buddy.”

“I beg your pardon?” The engineer seemed to have completely lost his mind.

“When I heard the title ‘professor’, I pictured an elderly woman, definitely a kind of plain Jane. But, boy, she’s neither.”

“She’s a bloody nuisance, if you ask me.”

“I mean, have you even looked at her?” Tucker’s gaze still followed the scientist, admiration plastered all over his face. “Those hips surely ain’t hard on the eyes and she’s got quite a fine neck on her. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Leave it to Commander Charles Tucker to point out the most appealing features of any woman’s physique. It was like a sport to him, and he prided himself quite the champion. The uniforms on Enterprise made it difficult sometimes, but Isabelle Dubois’ attire could not have been more different from the bulky blue overalls. She was wearing that kind of soft wide pants that gathered at the ankles and accentuated the sway of her hips just nicely. And there was nothing bulky at all about her top. Her dark curls were gathered on her head in some mess of a bun displaying all of the graceful neck Tucker had mentioned. Add to that the warm caramel tone of her skin and Malcolm knew that he was looking at an attractive woman indeed. Of course he had already noticed. He was not blind after all. That had made the humiliation even worse. And it did nothing to soothe his grudge.

“I do not care if she is fit or not. Her safety is my responsibility and she happily struts around sabotaging my efforts. She’s nothing short of infuriating.”

The engineer’s grin grew even wider. “Sounds promising.”

No airlock for Tucker, Malcolm decided. Death would come too quickly.

Meanwhile the professor had retrieved a steaming mug and was approached by Hoshi Sato. Malcolm saw the communications officer inviting Prof. Dubois to sit at her table. She accepted and soon the two women were wrapped in conversation including lots of smiles. Crewman Pointer awkwardly hovered in the background. Well, it was his shift and Malcolm surely did not envy him.

“So, as you’re allegedly not interested, could her schedule perhaps include a visit to the engine room? I’m sure I could interest her in the finer technologies of our warp drive.”

“Just drop it, will you?”

A short burst of Hoshi’s laughter two tables away caught his attention. What on earth could be so funny right now? They’ll better not be talking about him. Frowning, he resolutely put down his fork. Enough breakfast for today.

“See you later, Commander.” He grabbed his PADD and made his way to the exit. Passing Isabelle Dubois’ table, a spill of French sentences washed over him. Of course, Hoshi could not resist practicing any language she knew. Finally out in the corridor, Malcolm shook his head. He should have been expecting this. French women – when had they not been the downfall of any British officer?


	4. Perfume

The stars outside her window still moved in straight blazing lines. It looked almost soothing until Isabelle felt the slight trembling underneath her feet and realized the knot in her stomach once again. She was traveling a hundred times faster than light. Her mind could understand it but her body still had not left alarm mode. She checked the clock. It was almost midnight or 0000 hours as they called it here. She definitely needed some sleep. Last night had already been an exhausting affair with no more than three or four hours of real rest. Resolutely, she tore her eyes away from the stars and started to undress. At least she should try.

While changing, she let her mind wander back on the day. She had encountered some surprisingly charming people onboard the spaceship. Charming and sweet like the communications officer Sato. Hopefully, they could talk again during breakfast tomorrow. She probably was the only one on Enterprise to pronounce Isabelle’s surname correctly. Charming and eccentric like the ship’s physician Dr. Phlox. The Denobulan had shown her around his research facilities and before she knew it, they had been in a fascinating discussion on Exobiology. He had even read her recent publication and was not holding back on his questions. Overall, he seemed to be tremendously good- natured and sounded like he was having the time of his life on Enterprise. Isabelle could have easily spent two more hours in his laboratory but her schedule did not allow it.

Her schedule – that brought her thoughts back to Lieutenant Reed. Nothing charming about him. The hour she spent with him today was one she would not mind forgetting. Honestly, what was the man’s problem? She had apologized to him. She had been nothing but polite and professional during their meeting. She had accepted every single one of his suggestions, even the ludicrous ones. Still he remained as stiff and reserved as ever, obviously hiding his bad mood. Had his ego taken such a bruise? Did he never loosen up?

After slipping into her nightshirt she mechanically picked up her personal PADD. At home she always placed it on her bedside table. Even at night Isabelle liked to have her work at an arm’s reach. In lack of a nightstand, she put the device on a shelf above her bed. Then she lay down and tried to relax.

No such luck. It had been a mistake to ponder the standoffish Mr. Reed, she realized. The moment she closed her eyes, his grumpy face resurfaced from her memory. It seemed to be made up entirely of sharp edges. His cheeks were almost hollow. Just how old could he be? In his mid-thirties? How could there be so many lines on his face? Did he ever smile?

Stop! Isabelle exhaled sharply and slapped the mattress with her open hand. She had to stop thinking. Otherwise she would never get any sleep. She could not attend her first interstellar conference dead tired because some uptight British security officer kept bothering her.

One of her mind clearing techniques should do the trick. So she just lay still and listened to the noises surrounding her. A low hum vibrated throughout the hull. If it was quiet enough, you could detect it all over the ship. Somebody was just walking along the corridor outside her cabin. The boots made a sharp metallic sound on the floor. Somewhere to her left something beeped three times. A soft hissing noise was coming from her bathroom.

Isabelle opened her eyes. A soft hissing from her bathroom? That did not seem right. Better to check it out. The floor felt cold under her bare feet as she rounded the wall that divided the tiny bathroom from the rest of her cabin. She could see nothing extraordinary in the dim light. Her personal belongings stood in a small niche beside the sink. The sound was coming from there. Isabelle drew back her hand. She had already raised it to pick up her shampoo but on second thought it seemed a bad idea. The shampoo would have been the wrong choice anyway. It was her bulgy perfume bottle emitting the sound. Was something wrong with it? Did the cap get cracked during the journey? Something to do with differences in pressure perhaps? Isabelle sniffed. It did not smell like her fragrance in here. More like a sharp stinging odor. Her heart picked up a beat.

For a moment she stood frozen to the spot, wondering how to react. Should she tell the crewman outside her door about it? What if it was nothing? What if it was not? She did not want to appear like a complete nutcase. The next breath made her cough. Okay, problem solved. That was definitely worth reporting. She rushed to the door and dialed her code to open it.

“Excuse me.” The guard outside looked rather surprised to be addressed at this time of night. Isabelle felt like a fool. “There is a strange hissing noise coming from my perfume bottle and it smells really unpleasant, almost acidic. It made me cough.” Out loud it sounded even sillier. “I thought perhaps you should take a look?”

Thankfully, the man kept a straight face. He nodded. “Of course, Mam.” He turned on the spot and came in. When he reached the partition, he paused to listen. Then he approached the sink carefully. Isabelle followed looking over his shoulder. The odor had intensified. Two breaths in, the crewman gave a short cough. Shaking his head, he pressed the button of the com beside the shower.

“Cole to Lieutenant Reed.”

Isabelle counted eleven anxious heartbeats before an answer came through.

“Reed here.” Who would have thought ten minutes ago, she could feel relieved to hear his voice?

“Prof. Dubois found a suspicious object in her bathroom. Looks like a perfume bottle. It emits a gas- like substance, supposedly corrosive.” The last two words were accentuated by a short coughing fit.

“Leave immediately. I’m on my way.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The crewman turned. “You heard him, Mam.”

Trancelike, Isabelle nodded and let him lead her out. It all seemed like one of those disturbing dreams in the early hours of morning. The kind of dream in which you run and do not cover any ground. The kind in which you arrive and realize you have forgotten your clothes. Forgotten – that brought her suddenly back to reality.

“Just one second.” On the threshold she shook off the crewman’s hand and hasted towards her bed. “I’ll need my PADD.” Her fingers were just closing around its metal casing when she heard the door sliding shut. She spun around. Cole was already out on the corridor. Quickly, she entered her security code.

Nothing happened. She must have gotten it wrong. Carefully, she pressed the buttons again, making sure she had the right sequence this time. The door did not move. Isabelle felt the beginnings of a rising panic. She hammered in her code once more. No effect.

On the other side of the door, she heard Cole calling her. The only word she could make out was “open”.

“I can’t,” she cried. “It doesn’t work.” Fear was choking her, or was it the gas?

Outside, hurried steps were ringing along the corridor. Muffled voices barely penetrated the metal. The security panel emitted a gloating squeak. The door stayed shut. The acrid stench was engulfing Isabelle more and more. Soon she started coughing. She could still control it, taking shallow breaths. Desperately, she tried the code once more. Nothing, of course.

Suddenly, the com sprang to life and Reed’s voice rang out of the speaker.

“Stay calm. We are working on opening the door. Get down on the floor. Find a piece of cloth and breathe through it.” In the background she heard the words “highly explosive”.

Down on the floor – that was easy. Her legs nearly gave out under her anyway. She drew the neckline of her nightshirt up over her nose, gasping for air between the coughing fits. It did not help. She would suffocate. All of a sudden, she felt certain about it. That was it. She did not make it. They had won. Whoever they were. Her throat was on fire. Dark spots began to appear at the edge of her vision. The muscles of her belly cramped from the coughing. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Then suddenly, there was a whooshing noise and a gush of wonderful air. Hands grabbed her and hoisted her back on her feet.

“Out. Go, go.”

Miraculously, her legs started working. Obviously not fast enough because she felt Reed’s arm around her waist dragging her along the corridor.

“It can go off any second now,” somebody shouted.

The next moment, Isabelle felt herself shoved against a bulkhead. Before she could even think about protesting, the gas in her quarters exploded. The blast took away all the air in her lungs and filled them with thunder. Her bones shuddered. A ringing sound erupted inside her head. Reed was pushed against her, pinning her to the wall, shielding her with his body. She squeezed her eyes shut and instinctively gripped his shirt for support. The explosion rolled over them like a giant wave. It took forever to subside. Finally, the air flooded back.

At once, Reed stood up straight again. “Are you all right?” Hastily, she loosened her fingers and stared at him. Something was wrong. He was not wearing his uniform. Should he be swaying from side to side? Isabelle nodded her head, which left her staggering to the right. Quickly, he seized her upper arms to steady her.

“I’m fine,” she managed to croak. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Her throat felt like she had been coughing up nails. The floor still wobbled like it was made out of jelly. But she made an effort to raise her chin and look in the general direction of his face. Oh wow, that must have been the deepest frown she had ever seen on anybody. “Where is my PADD?” That question, at least, had to assure him that she was alright.

It obviously worked. His gaze darkened in an instant. He audibly drew in breath through his nostrils for a full military yell.

“Next time I tell you to leave a room, you do so bloody immediately. Is that understood?”

 _Well, there is some fire in you after all, Lieutenant._ Up close, his blue eyes seemed far too pretty for the rest of his face. Was that an odd thought to have right now? Why was the ship still shaking underneath her? His grip on her upper arms became even harder.

“Is that understood?” he snarled through clenched teeth.

“Yes, Sir,” she tried to say, but it came out as an incomprehensible rasping sound.

Then she collapsed into his arms.


	5. Pile of Shards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to update weekly. Unfortunately, we are heading into a new Corona lockdown over here. That includes homeschooling my 7-year-old while working from home. 
> 
> Thanks to everybody who left kudos. You made my day.
> 
> And I have doubled up on my beta readers: My husband has joined the club and is already leaving critical comments everywhere.

This mission was turning into a veritable nightmare. As Malcolm Reed stood in the turbolift ascending to the bridge, this was the only fact he was certain about. It had looked like a standard personal security case at first. Then Isabelle Dubois had turned up in person and complications had started to evolve right, left and center. In fact, after last night he was not certain about anything anymore. Not the best conditions for his briefing with the captain.

Adding to that, a wild mix of emotions tore on the foundations of his self-control. Rage, guilt and confusion were the most prominent ones. He had begun investigating the attack on the spot. Sleep had been out auf the question last night. He needed to know. How could this have happened? What had he missed? Who was responsible? The burning shame of failure fueled him. It had been a close shave. That must not happen again. It would not happen again. Not on his watch. 

That brought his anger back to Isabelle Dubois – what was wrong with the woman? Was she bent on being murdered? On making his job a living hell? Obviously, she could not follow a simple order even if her survival depended on it. Going back for that PADD. Sheer insanity, that’s what he called it. And to ask so insolently about it after he had just saved her from being blown up. While his back still stung from the impact of flying debris he had shielded her from. No wonder he had lost control and screamed at her. How could he have known that she was about to faint? The memory of her limp body in his arms fired up his guilt. However stupid her behavior had been, it was his job to protect her. Isabelle Dubois lying unconscious in sickbay was his fault. No dressing down of Ensign Cole could change that. Anyway, his whole team now was positive on throwing Prof. Dubois over their shoulders and carrying her out next time the situation called for it.

As if this was not enough already, there was this image in his head. It kept popping up at the most unsuitable moments. The image of her face so close, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed while her fingers clawed at the front of his shirt. The feeling of her body pressed against his. He suppressed it rigorously every time it appeared. It carried the most improper associations in its wake. 

A short beep indicated that the turbolift had reached its destination. _Self-control_ – he reminded himself. He suspected he would need a ton of it before this mission was over.

Making his way to the situation room, he noticed that he was the last senior officer to arrive. Even Dr. Phlox was present today. He was standing next to T’Pol, looking like his usual good-humored self. Instantly, Malcolm felt relieved. The Denobulan would not look that cheerful if Prof. Dubois’ condition had worsened. The door to the captain’s ready room glided open and Captain Archer emerged with a stern look on his face.

“Report,” he demanded before he had even reached his place. His gaze was directed at Phlox.

“The Professor has regained consciousness and I plan to release her from sickbay this evening. With a little rest, I believe, all side effects of the gas will be gone in two days.”

“Good,” Archer acknowledged, and then turned his attention to Malcolm. “Mr. Reed?”

“The explosion was caused by a two component device. After the first gas was released, a tiny amount of hydrogen peroxide was enough to trigger the reaction. It was released time-delayed from a different compartment inside the same bottle. The object obviously had been altered. What we still don’t know is if it was already in Prof. Dubois’ luggage when she came aboard, or if it was exchanged afterwards.”

“Didn’t you check all her personal belongings?”

Malcolm stood up even straighter. “I did so myself, Sir. The bottle looked unremarkable from the outside and nothing suspicious showed up on the scans. By themselves, the two components would not have raised any alarm. It is also evident that somebody has tampered with the door. It did not open until we had rerouted the power and entered my personal security clearance code. The attack was elaborately planned and, I am afraid, somebody on Enterprise is involved.”

Archers face darkened. “That is a serious accusation, Lieutenant. It’s hard to believe, someone on the crew should be involved with that kind of thing.”

Malcolm’s thoughts exactly. “The evidence does not allow for any other conclusion, Captain.”

“I took a closer look at the lock,” Tucker chimed in. “This kind of manipulation could not have been done from the outside. The routine check on D-Deck was conducted less than 36 hours ago. We had already left Jupiter Station by then. It must have been rigged after that.”

“What about general damage report?”

“Fortunately, the hull took no damage but the explosion blew out relays all over D-Deck. We’re working on it. As far as Prof. Dubois’ quarters are concerned, there is not much left to return to.”

Archer’s frown remained firmly in place as he addressed Malcolm once more. “It sounds like this isn’t over yet. How do you plan to ensure the Professor’s safety under the present circumstances?”

There it was again – the pang of guilt. He had failed. Even the captain thought so. “At first, I will go over the logs and interviews to single out five members of my team that are definitely not involved. Then security will be raised to the next level. Close protection will be additionally provided in four hour shifts. I intend to cover one of them myself. In this case, no matter what happens, somebody will be with her.”

“So your solution is to not leave her alone for a second,” Archer concluded. “That seems like a drastic measure. I’m not sure she will comply.”

That was one of the weak spots in Malcolm’s plan. His experience with Isabelle Dubois so far told him it would not go down without a fight. “Captain, after what happened last night, Prof. Dubois would be foolish to reject it.”

“Still. She’s not a member of Starfleet. Try to be diplomatic, Malcolm.” Beside him he heard Tucker stifle a chuckle which quickly turned into a small cough.

“With all due respect, Sir, I will not let anything like last night happen again.” He had a job do to and he intended to complete it, whether she liked it or not; even if it meant throwing her in the brig. 

Archer held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Fine, but I don’t want to hear any complaints, Lieutenant. That’s an order. I expect all senior officers and their staff to assist Mr. Reed in his investigation. We have five days till we reach Acada Prime. I’d prefer to arrive there without any unknown black sheep amongst my crew. Dismissed.”

At once Malcolm turned and made his way to the turbolift. He was not due on the bridge till 1300 hours. Enough time to put together his team for the next five days. He also wanted to speak to T’Pol about the regulations and conditions on Acada Prime. They had yet to figure out, how to keep Prof. Dubois safe there without any official security details. Before the doors of the lift closed, Charles Tucker took a quick step in.

He pressed the button for main engineering and managed to hold his tongue for almost ten seconds before saying: “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Malcolm. Nobody could have foreseen this.”

“It’s my responsibility to do just that.”

“To me it seems like you took every precaution.”

Malcolm’s hands clenched themselves into fists. “Obviously, it was not enough.” He would love to get his hands on the one responsible. Outside of Starfleet regulations of course. It was just an idle wish, something he would never do, but the image alone gave him satisfaction.

“Don’t take it out on the professor,” Tucker said. “You two don’t seem to get along very well as it is.”

That had to be the understatement of the century. “Don’t get me started on that woman,” Malcolm warned his friend. “At this rate, she’ll end up killing herself due to utter stubbornness.”

“ _Just try to be diplomatic, Malcom_ ,” Tucker mimicked the Captain.

“I heard you giggling back there.”

The engineer did so just now. “Honestly, as if the man didn’t know you after all this time. Diplomacy has always been one of your core skills.”

Perhaps Commander Charles Tucker would earn himself a punch in the face one of these days. He had worked hard enough for it already.

“Maybe you should change your strategy concerning Prof. Dubois. I mean, after saving her life and everything. You could sell yourself as a knight in shining armor or something like that.” He scrutinized Malcolm quickly. “Better cut down on the scowling first.”

Malcolm thought it beneath himself to acknowledge that. _Self-control_ – he kept repeating to himself. Essentially, it would come down to this. _Self-control_ – he just hoped it would not abandon him one of these days.


	6. Truce

When Isabelle Dubois entered her newly assigned quarters that evening, she found Lieutenant Reed already waiting. She displayed admirable self-control and suppressed a sigh. Great, just what she needed after a horrible day in sickbay coughing and vomiting her guts out. Last time she had seen him, he had given her a dressing down like some choleric drill sergeant. Supposedly, he was here to tell her that she was under arrest for insubordination. To her astonishment, though, she could not detect the tiniest wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Good evening, Professor. It’s good to see you on your feet again. Please take a seat. I’m going to give you an update on the situation and walk you through the new security arrangements.” His tone was still reserved but definitely civil.

Dumbstruck for real this time, Isabelle sank down into the offered chair. It was the only one in her new quarters. The room looked like her old one except for the bed. Here she finally had her bunkbed. She just hoped there would not be a real bunkmate involved. On the desk before her lay one Starfleet regular PADD and a small pile of clothes. Her clothes.

“Is that all that’s left?” The realization hit her right in the face.

“I’m afraid so. The damage was quite extensive. All data that could be retrieved from your personal PADD is on that one here. I fear there is not much left.”

Stunned, Isabelle took one of her shirts. Right on the hem a tiny scorch mark darkened the green fabric. She remembered putting it at the very back of the closet because she intended to wear it at the conference. Right at the back, buried deep down. So it had been spared. As she had been.

“Thank you, Mr. Reed.” Her voice still sounded like she had been crying all night but if he was holding out some kind of olive branch, it would be childish not to take it.

“Our quartermaster is still working on some items he thinks he can fix.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She turned in the chair to look up at him. “Thank you for saving my life, I guess.”

That rendered him speechless. He fixed his gaze on the floor in front of his shoes for a second, then gave a tiny sharp nod.

“It’s my job.” Just the perfect British understatement. What else did she expect? “As is explaining to you the new security regime.” And off he went on a point-by-point elaboration of the new safety measures to keep her alive and unharmed for the next five days. He never looked at her during his explanations but kept pacing the free space between the bed and the desk, hands clasped firmly behind his back. Had he looked at her, he would have seen a mounting expression of astonishment on her face. He could not be serious. Was this some kind of a cruel revenge for her mocking him that first day? When he finally fell silent, all of Isabelle’s consternation condensed into one sentence:

“Will I be allowed to go to the bathroom alone?” She saw him pressing his lips tight before answering.

“I understand that this is an uncomfortable situation, Professor. Be assured, I wouldn’t resort to this if it weren’t necessary.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Reed. Will I be allowed to go to the bathroom alone or do I need your permission first?” Olive branch her ass, this had nothing to do with security. It was a pure refusal of any privacy bordering on harassment.

He closed his eyes for a second, obviously trying to restrain himself. “Perhaps it escaped your attention just now, but the attack yesterday definitely was initiated from within the ship. Someone on the crew tried to kill you. You are not safe. Not in this room, not anywhere else on Enterprise. It is my duty not to let them succeed the next time.” His tone made it all too clear that the contrary was beginning to appeal to him. “Not even you will prevent me from carrying out my orders.”

There it was again. The angry flash in his pale blue eyes. On seeing it, she suddenly realized that she had aimed for it. Something in her wanted to elicit a response from him that was beyond his constrained behavior. Heaven knew why. The discovery took the wind out of her sails. This time, she was the one to lower her gaze. In the following silence, all she could hear was his effort to calm his breath.

“Is there no other alternative?” she finally asked quietly. The short exchange had left her rather exhausted. She felt queasy.

“Please feel free to try out the brig. Perhaps it’s more to your liking.”

Was that a hint of humor? She could not decide. Better to play it safe.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she answered. Pushing back her hair she finally let out a sigh. All she really wanted to do, was to check how much of her conference talk was still on that PADD. All her body wanted to do, was lie down and sleep. Perhaps she could compromise. “Fine. Bring on these new security arrangements. I won’t object. I’ll even follow Dr. Phlox’ orders and rest.”

Isabelle got up and managed one step before the room started to spin around her. Before she could reach out to anything, Reed had already taken hold of her arm. His grip was firm but not as hard as she remembered. He guided her for the remaining two steps and sat her down on the bed.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just these nasty side effects from the gas. I’m glad I made it here from sickbay without hugging the floor.”

He fleetingly bit his lip. It was only the tiniest movement, but Isabelle saw it. It told her an important fact about him. Reed was blaming himself for the outcome of last night’s attack. Seeing her weak like that made him feel guilty. She decided to store this information thoroughly. It could come in handy one of these days.

She lay back, moving cautiously in this traitorous body of hers. “So, call in the first of your henchmen, Mr. Reed. I promise not to insult him or her.”

“There is no need for that. I’m scheduled for the first shift. Crewman Pierson will release me in three hours.”

Now that was unexpected. _I wonder who worked out that duty roster,_ she thought dryly. Hopefully he was not planning on just standing there and watching her. Otherwise, their frail cease-fire would shatter long before these three hours were over.

“In that case, could you please hand me my PADD? I’d like to determine how much work I have to do before we reach Acada Prime.”

“Certainly.”

He brought her the PADD, then took out a little scanning device not unlike the one he had used on her luggage. He activated it and started to step around the room, pointing it at every corner. Isabelle did not ask, but he answered nevertheless.

“It’s just a routine scanning of the room to be conducted at the start of each shift.”

Well, he certainly liked to keep things under control at all times. After scanning for who knows what in the shower, Reed returned and sat down. All the while Isabelle was watching him out of the corner of her eyes. She just could not concentrate on her work with him prowling around all alert and businesslike. When he leaned back in the chair, she saw him fidgeting slightly. It occurred to her that he had been the one to receive almost the full force of the shockwave. His back must be badly bruised at the very least. Her bad conscience raised its head again.

“I heard Dr. Phlox mentioning that you had been injured.” 

“It’s nothing.” Ah yes, the heroic armory officer calling some serious contusions barely a scratch. How many clichés did he want to meet?

“Looking back, it was quite a stupid idea turning around for my PADD,” she admitted.

“You don’t say.” He did not look up from the device in his hand. In the light of the small screen his face looked almost gaunt. The dark lines of a sleepless night framed his eyes. “I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday, but the next time you won’t leave a room, I’ll carry you out myself.”

“I bet you’d love that,” she replied before she could bite her tongue.

His face remained unchanged and fixed on his work. “It’s your choice.”

Isabelle thought it wiser not to dwell on that topic. Instead she faced the ugly truth of a deleted talk without any backups. Fortunately, she felt too weak to curse out loud. There were less than ten percent left. Basically, she had to start from scratch. Tomorrow she would request a copy of her experimental data via subspace communication. The rest would keep her busy till five minutes before the symposium started. Resolutely she began programming the first chart.

There was not a sound in the room apart from two persons pressing buttons and swiping screens, mixed with the occasional rustling of cloth. It certainly felt like the beginning of a truce.


	7. Loophole

For the next two days nothing happened. Nothing at all. It drove Malcolm Reed crazy. On the one hand, it was better than another attack, on the other, he was nowhere nearer to finding the culprit than he had been on the night of the explosion. He had had his experiences with aggressors who had lain low for a while. But they had never done so inside his own ship. They had never hidden amongst the people he encountered every day. He felt like a coil, tightly wound up, ready to spring at the first hint of danger. A danger, at that, which could come from any direction at any time.

Nothing happened with Isabelle Dubois either. He had spent two four-hour shifts with her, during which she managed to neither insult him nor enrage him in any other way. None of his five staff members had reported anything other than trouble-free cooperation on her side. Additionally, to put the cherry on top, she had not complained to the Captain about him. It all seemed too good to be true.

Truth be told, Dubois had been asleep during half of their time together. During the other half, she had been totally caught up in her work. Sometimes it seemed, she did not even acknowledge his presence. Well, that could have been an insult in and of itself. Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was not used to being utterly ignored. Considering their history, however, he chose not to be picky. 

That all sounded good on paper. In reality though, he grew increasingly irritated around her. He knew that many people spoke with themselves when they were lost in thought or totally focused. Isabelle Dubois did it too sometimes but she did it in French. Malcolm could not understand any of it. It kept him wondering if she did rant about him after all. It seemed just like her.

Then there were those little dancelike moves. Again, he was quite certain that they were unintentional and subconscious. When she paced the room with her PADD, calculating charts or probabilities, she would occasionally perform a little swaying sidestep, or turn in an almost ballet like manner, lifting the heel bringing the other foot around. Those movements were far from clumsy but flowing and graceful. They kept distracting him. It did not help that her nicely curved hips where almost level with his eyes when he sat there.

And to make it even worse, she would put down her work, pull back her dark curls with both hands, twist them two times and draw them forward over her left shoulder exposing the back of her neck in the process. The neck that Tucker had so kindly pointed out to him. _Well, thanks again for that, scumbag._

Thinking about it, he could go on for hours about her maddening habits. What did the woman have against shoes? Or socks for that matter. She did it only in her quarters, but who ran around a starship with bare feet? It was ludicrous and a security risk to say the least.

Malcolm was just glad that he had scheduled his shifts with her in the evenings and she chose to shower in the mornings. The idea of her taking a shower just two meters away made him quite nervous, to put it mildly.

Nevertheless, Isabelle Dubois was fortunately not aware of those things and they had established a kind of truce. A truce that was about to be smashed by their meeting with T’Pol that afternoon. Together with the science officer, he had finally worked out a plan to provide for the professor’s safety during the conference. They would inform her of the proceedings today. She would not like it. In fact, Malcolm had arranged the meeting in the conference room with T’Pol present to dampen some of her immediate reactions. He dreaded especially one of them. But it would do him no good to ponder on it beforehand.

At 1500 hours sharp, T’Pol sat down in one of the chairs at the top of the table. Malcolm nodded a greeting. He could not sit down yet. His feet carried him along the windows while he kept repeating the most important points of their plan in his mind. They missed nothing. It was soundproof. The remaining risk was minimal, yet existent. Well, it would keep him on his toes.

To his dismay, Isabelle Dubois showed up twelve minutes late. It did not lessen his tension.

“Nice that you chose to join us, Professor,” he could not refrain from remarking.

Dubois simply smiled. “Oh, I was just so happy that I can finally walk for more than ten meters without feeling dizzy, that I took a little stroll.”

Ensign Socorro behind her looked like bad conscience personified. It was her shift and she knew that Malcolm would have a word with her about their tardiness.

“As lovely as that may be, could you please take a seat, so we can get started?” Better to get it over with.

Reluctantly, Isabelle Dubois drew out a chair. “I’ve been wondering. Why would I need security on Acada Prime? The regulations are quite strict. They prohibit weapons and security personnel of any kind. If we really brought an attacker with us on Enterprise, I would be safest if I went alone. You could leave orbit after dropping me and return three days later. No other ship could have followed us from earth in just seven days.”

“We have considered this option as well,” T’Pol replied. “If we apply your premises, it would indeed be the best course of action. Obviously, you lack some firsthand experience with the venue, as well as some information Starfleet supplied us with. I have been to Acada Prime myself once. The regulations may be quite explicit but they rely heavily on the goodwill of the participants. All visitors and luggage are being scanned. It would be very easy, though, to trick these controls. The explosion caused by your perfume bottle is an example for that.”

“Still, if none of the attendants is keen on killing me, the controls won’t be a problem. I will be the only scientist from earth.”

“You refuse to acknowledge the severity of your situation,” Malcolm stepped in. “Your research did not only cause an outrage with certain people on earth but also on other planets. On several of them, xenophobic groups are gaining more influence as we speak. They could pose a threat as well.”

Dubois snorted. “What’s next? A ship that left earth four weeks ago just as backup in case the attack on me failed? I call that paranoia, Mr. Reed.”

“And I call it foolishness not to consider all possibilities.” There went his resolution not to raise his voice during this meeting. “I did not drag you out of that gas-filled room, just to let you get strangled on Acada Prime.”

“I didn’t know you had such a soft spot for the melodramatic, Lieutenant,” Dubois taunted with a mischievous sparkling in her brown eyes. “You give my work much more credit than it deserves.”

While Malcolm was desperately searching for something diplomatic to say, T’Pol came to his rescue.

“I agree with you partially, professor. Three months from now your latest publication will be most likely read only by scientists. The stir it caused will subside. In the present situation, however, the logical choice is to take all protection that you can get.”

The science officer’s calm voice stopped the rising argument. Isabelle Dubois crossed her arms, settled back in her chair and bit her lips. Her gaze fixed the table’s surface in front of her. A tense silence settled over the room.

“Can we proceed now?” T’Pol made it sound like a statement. He could take a page out of her book as far as self-control was concerned. His own self-control seemed to go out of the window lately, every time Isabelle Dubois entered the room. That would not do. Especially when they put their plan into action.

Finally, Dubois nodded. “Alright. I fear I’m repeating myself these days, but bring it on.” She tossed a half smile in his direction. “Actually, I’m curious what outrageous protocols you cooked up this time.”

Then she did it again. That pulling back, twisting and draping of her hair. Did she not know how sensuous that gesture was? Particularly when she also looked at him during performing it. Quickly Malcolm focused on the task at hand.

“You should take two persons with you to the surface. One will provide close protection during your entire stay; the other will serve as backup and remain with the shuttle. Weapons may be banned, but scanners are not. They will deliver a complete surveillance of your quarters and its surroundings. Bio signs, energy readings, all we can get. The backup in the shuttle will be able to monitor those scanners while the person with you is asleep. Thus, we create a save place you can rely on and protect you also during the sessions. Additionally to these precautions, I strongly advise you to freshen up on your self-defense training. We’d like you to be prepared as best as possible.”

A short laugh escaped Dubois’ lips. “Freshen up is a strong word, Mr. Reed. I don’t know anything about self-defense.”

Why was he not surprised? “I will schedule some lessons for you before we arrive.”

“Assuming, that I agree to the rest, of course. Tell me, how can I bring two persons with me? The regulations state that only invited scientists are allowed on the premises. And how can I be sure I won’t bring the attacker with me?”

“Shuttle pilots are not supposed to enter the conference area. Thus, they don’t fall under the restrictions. Therefore, the backup detail will be passed off as a pilot.”

“Good, and the second one? The one shadowing my every step?”

“That will be me.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m afraid not. I’m the person best qualified for the job and I definitely didn’t attack you.”

Isabelle Dubois still looked as if she seriously doubted his sanity. “And how do I take you with me? I couldn’t sell you off as a research assistant or anything like it. You would need an invitation.”

Malcolm hesitated. This was the part, he dreaded the most.

“We found a loophole,” T’Pol explained.

“A loophole?” Dubois echoed, mistrust written all over her face. Malcolm bit his tongue and remained silent. T’Pol would deliver it as the logical conclusion it actually was. Perhaps it would spare him the blow.

“Only invited scientists are allowed to attend,” the science officer cited the text. “They may be only accompanied by close family members.”

Isabelle Dubois swallowed visibly. “I see.”

“Lieutenant Reed will pose as your husband.” There, it was finally out.

For a second, Isabelle Dubois seemed frozen with shock. Then she started shaking, and finally, she laughed right out loud. T’Pol raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, but that’s the best one yet,” Dubois managed to gasp, before another wave of laughter bubbled up inside her. Obviously, she had never heard anything so hilarious.

Malcolm tried to ignore it, but something deep inside him actually took offence. He could cope with indignation, even outright refusal, but with ridicule? No way!

Finally, Isabelle Dubois caught her breath again. “My husband! Well, it seems only proper, considering you already know every piece of my underwear.” T’Pol’s eyebrow climbed even higher. Malcolm felt a hot flush creeping up his neck. It did not help that Ensign Socorro stood beside the door, displaying a very straight face.

“Could we please stay professional about this?” Under the circumstances, he sounded incredibly calm.

“Fine. Did you think of a cover story? We’ll need a damn good one, otherwise nobody will believe this.”

Malcolm unclenched his teeth to admit that they had not worked out one yet.

“Maybe you can take over this task, professor,” T’Pol remarked. “As you will be the one most likely asked to provide it.”

Isabelle Dubois visibly sobered up. She looked from T’Pol to Malcolm and a frown replaced the amusement on her face. “You two are actually serious about this.”

“Vulcans don’t joke, professor. You of all people should know that.” After spending so much time on Enterprise around the science officer, Malcolm was not so sure about that any more. Right now, however, she was telling the truth.

For quite a while, Isabelle Dubois kept chewing her lip and occasionally shaking her head. At last she let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. I agree to this crazy scheme and I will take care of the cover story. I have already been married once. This time, I am the one most qualified for the job. But do not complain if the story doesn’t agree with you, Mr. Reed.”

“That remains to be seen.” He could not give her a blank check on that one. God knows what this woman would come up with. “I’ll try to keep an open mind.”

Isabelle Dubois gave him a glance that clearly told she thought that beyond his capabilities. Perhaps he really should ask T’Pol about some Vulcan mind-clearing techniques. To suppress his emotions and keep in control – right now that sounded more appealing than ever.


	8. Doctor's Advice

It was well before 1900 hours, but Isabelle Dubois already found herself ushered towards one of the training rooms by Ensign Socorro. Since their late arrival to the security briefing two days ago, the blonde security officer insisted on showing up early. Isabelle suspected she had Lieutenant Reed to thank for that. It was just the last point on a long list. He really took up an alarming amount of her thoughts. Mostly, they were of the unpleasant kind. How she would survive three whole days in his company was beyond her.

She just wondered why he behaved so cross towards her. Nobody she talked to spoke ill of him. They all mentioned his sense of duty, his loyalty and commitment. Hoshi Sato had confided that once you got beyond that rigid façade, he actually could be quite a sweet guy. Isabelle was sure, the communications officer had pulled her leg. To top it all, she had even seen him smile. It had been in the mess hall. Reed had shared a table with the chief engineer. The one who eradiated good mood for lightyears around him. Isabelle had sat on the other side of the room. She had not heard their conversation, but the engineer had said something and suddenly Reed’s face had lit up. It had not been a full on smile, but a slight and crooked one. Nevertheless, Isabelle had almost choked on her risotto. It had been a most surreal moment.

So the man was actually able to smile. He even had a best friend. Why on earth did he behave like her very existence was an offence in and of itself? Actually, his demeanor was polite enough. It just turned into his cold British indignation whenever she chose to slightly disagree with him. And disagreeing with him had almost become second nature to her. Something in her wanted to tease him and push him out of his uptight comfort zone. Okay, she had to admit it; Reed himself was only one half of the problem. The other half was her coping badly with the situation.

These self-defense lessons, for example, were a pure waste of time. They totally made sense on paper, but she would never manage those movements till tomorrow. Even if she did, she would likely forget them during an actual attack. Yesterday’s training session had been a disaster. She had practiced different maneuvers under Reed’s supervision with Socorro as her partner. Not once had he been satisfied with her performance. She either was too slow or not decisive enough. They had all left in a considerably bad mood. Today would not be any better.

They really were too early. The training session for the security staff was still in full swing. Isabelle stopped in the shadow of the doorway. All around the room, pairs of people were practicing arm blocks, shoulder throws and other moves that looked nothing short of bone breaking to her inexperienced eyes. She recognized Crewman Pierson, Ensign Cole and the tall blond security guard whose name she just could not remember. He always covered the early morning shift. Lieutenant Reed stood on the side, assessing his team’s progress. Today, he did not wear his uniform but some kind of track pants and a slim fitted blue shirt. He looked quite different. The uniform simply underlined his shortness and slight built. What it completely concealed were the wiry muscles under the dark cloth. Suddenly he looked like someone who could actually handle himself in a fight without a phase pistol.

“Do you know those moves as well?” Isabelle asked Socorro. The tall woman tossed back her blond ponytail.

“Of course, Mam.”

“Good for you,” Isabelle mumbled. When Socorro demonstrated the self-defense moves, they looked natural and easy. For her, they surely were simple basics, not worth mentioning.

“Those back moves are improving,” Isabelle heard Reed exclaim. “Side defenses are still too sloppy, though. Watch carefully one more time.” He gave a short hand sign in Pierson’s direction who stepped up to him. The crewman was half a foot taller and easily thirty pounds heavier than Reed. “The emphasis is on the distant foot and on precision.” The two men shortly locked gazes. Reed nodded. Pierson attacked him from the right side. Isabelle really tried, but she could not watch closely because it all happened in the blink of an eye. There was a block, a kick, a throw and the tall man was lying face down on the floor. Reed’s one hand was pressing down on the back of Pierson’s neck, his other hand held his opponent’s arm locked in a rather uncomfortable position.

Isabelle chewed her lip. Okay, perhaps she should refrain from getting a rise out of Reed in the future.

In the meantime, the armory officer gave his team member a hand up. “Practice this till next time. Dismissed.”

As the security staff made their way out of the room reeking of sweat, Ensign Socorro gently shoved Isabelle in. “You’ll get better each time you do it, Professor,” she promised. Isabelle stifled a sigh. If only that platitude was true.

Well, it unfortunately was not, as the next half hour was just one failed attempt after the other. Time after time, she tried to slip free of Socorro’s grip or disengage long enough to escape her. It was frustrating, to say the least. She felt only relieved that Reed held back on his comments. He just gave instructions and demanded “again” more times than she could count. His deepening frown, however, indicated that he would run out of patience any minute now. 

Isabelle just kept going. She ignored the growing weariness in her joints. This was a battle of wills. She would not be the first one to declare it a lost cause. Ensign Socorro seemed as stoic and even-tempered as ever. She could have been a hologram for all it was worth.

Just when Isabelle thought this was going to last all night, Reed’s “Stop!” cut through the room. She turned to see him shake his head. “You’re doing it wrong. I just can’t figure out the problem. It’s definitely not the footing.” It better not be with decades of ballet lessons under her belt. “It’s not clumsiness either.”

“Well, thank you, I guess,” Isabelle remarked. The shirt already clung to her back. She had worked up quite a sweat with her pathetic attempts.

Reed ignored her comment, fixing his gaze somewhere above her left shoulder. “I will partner with you once. Perhaps I can figure it out then.” A short hand motion in Socorro’s direction and the ensign vanished to the side. Reed took up position behind Isabelle. They were just practicing something called shoulder slip. The attacker thereby snuck up behind the victims back and wrapped an arm around their throat trying to drag them away. Isabelle knew the defense in theory. Step front, duck down and slip through, push away. In practice she never got it quite right. With Reed instead of Socorro behind her, the whole thing just became a lot more uncomfortable. He did not seem to mind.

“Just repeat what you did the last few times.” So she did and failed again. It did not help that she froze for a second, when his body made contact with her back.

They disentangled and Reed instantly took a step back and crossed his arms.

“That won’t do, Professor. You’re scared.”

“Because being grabbed from behind like that is scary as hell.”

“It will be a lot scarier when it happens for real.”

Isabelle suppressed a frustrated groan. _Well, thanks for that optimistic perspective, Lieutenant._ “So, what should I do?”

“Use the scare to your advantage. Don’t become timid. Become aggressive. Try it once more.”

It was easier said than done. The third time, however, she almost broke free of his grip.

“Better. Now don’t try to get away before the push. Stay close during the slip and focus all your strength on the push. Don’t be afraid of body contact.”

“I’m not afraid,” Isabelle burst out before she could think about it. Perhaps she was becoming aggressive after all.

Reed remained as straight-faced as ever but she noticed him swallowing once before pronouncing: “Good. Try again. Push harder to disengage. You won’t unhinge me so easily.”

That statement proofed to be true. Three times they repeated the movements and she really gave it her best. Reed was perhaps three centimeters taller than her and not more than fifteen pounds heavier, but he stood solid as a rock. On her last try she actually broke free. She was as astonished about it as anyone.

“It actually worked,” she exclaimed.

Reed raised one eyebrow. “Indeed. Once more, please. Just to make sure. It’s far from perfect but it doesn’t have to be. It should just buy you some seconds before I can step in. I’ll be around you all the time.” At once, Isabelle’s feeling of triumph subsided. _Thanks for reminding me._ “Now push as hard as you can.”

So she did. This time she put all of her anger and frustration into the shove. It proofed quite effective. Too effective perhaps. Reed for once had to take a step back and Isabelle found herself thrown backwards so hard that she lost her balance. Her knee hit the ground at an odd angle. A sharp pain instantly shot through her leg, making her cry out and fall to the floor. She cradled her left knee and could not suppress a stream of French swearwords escaping her lips.

“Are you hurt?” Great. Reed asking stupid questions was exactly what she needed right now.

“How does it look to you?” she snapped back.

“Can you get up?”

Isabelle tried but as soon as she put weight on her left leg, the pain made her almost tumble over again. Reed quickly caught her, before she could fall. “Dr. Phlox should take a look at this,” he decided. Under normal circumstances Isabelle would protest, claiming that it would all be over in a few minutes. Right now, however, her knee actually hurt badly and did not support her. Perhaps she did not need sickbay, but training was definitely over for her today.

“Sir?” Socorro asked diligently.

“It’s alright,” Reed answered. “I’ll take her to sickbay. Your shift ends anyway. Dismissed, Ensign.”

Isabelle could not refrain from rolling her eyes. He had to add those last words, of course. Did he get his kicks out of that military crap? Would calling him _Lieutenant_ and _Sir_ improve his mood during their wretched three days on Acada Prime? Somehow she doubted that. Especially because she could never pull it off convincingly. It would always sound like mockery and mockery did not bear well with Lieutenant Reed, oh no.

Meanwhile, she tried to keep as much dignity as possible while hobbling towards the turbolift using said lieutenant as a crutch. She had put her left arm across his shoulders. His right arm supported her around her waist.

“Perhaps I should use this in our cover story. The one time my husband almost broke my leg.”

“I’m very sorry you are injured, Professor, but for the record: I can’t remember causing it.”

“You were the one telling me to push as hard as I could.”

“How could I have guessed you would actually follow an order for once?”

Despite everything, a short burst of laughter escaped Isabelle. “You know, if we just keep up the arguing, we might not actually need a cover story.”

“Well, you are the supposed expert on this.”

She wanted to make a snide remark about his unsurprising lack of marital experience, but was cut short by a jolt of sharp pain from her injured knee. Isabelle gasped and stopped. That blasted knee. As if the situation was not bad enough already with xenophobic fanatics trying to kill her and the prospect of 72 hours straight in the company of charming Mr. Reed, she now would wobble about ungracefully as well. To think she had actually been overjoyed with this invitation once. The conference was supposed to be an amazing experience. Meeting scientists from a dozen planets and discussing new research. She had intended to enjoy herself immensely. When did it turn out so wrong?

“Are you alright, Professor? Maybe we should slow down.” She could actually hear the apprehensive frown on his face. Isabelle shook her head. Cranky and reserved as he might behave towards her, Reed still was responsible for her. Her injury was just as disagreeable for him as it was for her.

“Let’s go on.”

They reached the turbolift in silence. Inside, the awkwardness of the situation began to bear down on her. She suddenly realized that they were on their own in a confined space in a rather intimate position. She could feel the warmth of his body along her left side. The short hairs at the back of his hairline softly tickled the bare skin of her forearm. But it would be even more awkward to detach herself for the short ride and then lean on him again a minute later. So Isabelle just stared at the blinking blue light on the control panel and tried to puzzle out what was wrong with her. She never felt awkward as a rule.

Reed’s thoughts seemed to wander in a similar direction. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Then he uncomfortably cleared his throat and asked: “So, how is this cover story of yours coming along anyway?”

“Not great, actually,” Isabelle admitted. “There is only one thing I’m confident about: My grandfather stopped talking to me because I married an Englishman.”

Reed stiffened up. “I beg your pardon?”

“Never stray too far from the truth when you’re telling a lie. That’s what my great-aunt Aurélie used to say.”

“So your grandfather would actually display this appalling behavior?”

“Not necessarily. He would perhaps accept an English scientist, certainly go along with an English artist, but an English officer – that would be just asking for trouble.”

That shut Reed up for a moment. Being so close to him in such a small place, she came to notice his smell. There was an undertone of fresh sweat of course, but also something woody. Woven into that was just a whiff of a tangy odor. It was not altogether unpleasant.

“My family keeps a long pacifistic, sometimes anarchic tradition,” she quickly explained. “Despising the military is practically built into our genes.”

“That explains a lot,” Reed mumbled, more to himself than to her.

At that moment, a short beeping indicated that the turbolift had reached its destination. As the doors glided open, Isabelle let out a relieved exhale. Without any further discussion, they continued on their way to sickbay.

Dr. Phlox was surprised to see her in sickbay again so soon. Her last visit had only been yesterday to ensure that she was clear of any aftereffect of the toxic gas. He took his time, examining her knee in all possible ways. Reed hovered uncomfortably in the background. Finally, Phlox assured her that it was just a contusion. “It’s nothing to worry about. I will give you a slight analgesic and something to dissolve the hematoma more quickly. It should be completely fine in a few days. Meanwhile, please refrain from any physical activity more exertive to your knee than a short walk.”

“Thank you.” At least she would be able to walk around Acada Prime on her own. “That was a close shave, Mr. Reed,” she tossed in his direction. “You didn’t break my leg after all.”

“Would you kindly refrain from blaming me for your clumsiness?” he replied blinking a few times. Isabelle could tell that he was annoyed. The blinking gave him away every time.

“Lieutenant,” Dr. Phlox cut in on them. “If you don’t mind, could you please step outside for a minute? I’d like to speak to my patient alone.”

Reed hesitated. You could actually see him struggle with his own safety protocol.

“I assure you, I don’t intend to harm her in any way.” The physician pressed the button to open the door, smiling expectantly.

Reed cast a quick look around, then gave one of his military short nods. “One minute,” he agreed.

The door slid shut and Phlox approached her with a hypospray in his hand. Isabelle drew her hair back to give him access to the side of her neck.

“I’m curious, Dr. Phlox. What did you want to talk about?” She felt a tiny sting as the hypospray released the drugs into her bloodstream. The pain subsided almost immediately.

Phlox cleared his throat. “It is actually none of my concern, but I can sense a lot of tension between you and Mr. Reed. Not only just now but in general.”

Isabelle snorted. “Tell me about it. Is he always that rigid and pessimistic? Does he never relax for a second?”

His impressive Denobulan eyebrows lifted. “If he started relaxing, I’d be worried about him.” He put away the hypospray and crossed his arms. “You two are also going to spend the next three days in each other’s company.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

“It would be advisable to resolve this tension, Professor. Just for your conference to be successful. It won’t be easy to contribute to scientific progress with you two being at each other’s throat all the time.”

Isabelle frowned. “Resolve? How do you think we should go about this? I fear there won’t be a counsellor available on Acada Prime.”

Phlox’s eyebrows climbed even higher on his ridge framed forehead. “I hear you two will be attending the conference as husband and wife. I can think of some activities married couples could engage in to ease out interpersonal tension.” His lips parted in an unsettling wide smile. “Just some advice from a happily married husband of three wives.”

For some seconds Isabelle was lost for words. Could he perhaps mean something else? No, not with this grin plastered all over his face. Was he actually waiting for an answer?

“No way!” she finally burst out. “Sorry, Doctor. That might be the Denobulan way, but I am not Denobulan, and Mr. Reed is nothing short of a pain in the ass.”

Phlox chuckled like he had just received a very satisfying test result. “I suggest you let him escort you back to your quarters then. There is nothing more I can do for you.”

“Thank you anyway.” Isabelle carefully slipped off the biobed. Her knee still hurt but she could put her weight on it. “I hope you’re not going to make this suggestion to him as well.” God knows what Reed would do to him.

“Not to worry, Professor. It’s all in the strictest confidence, of course.” He did not seem offended by her reaction. He even opened the door for her. “She’s all yours again, Lieutenant.”

Isabelle inwardly cringed at his choice of words. What had Phlox done? Nothing would sound innocently to her any more. She frowned at him but the physician just beamed back. “I hope you both enjoy your stay on Acada Prime.”

_Manipulative bastard._ Perhaps she should tell Reed and they could murder him together. Being partners in crime surely would resolve tension just as well.

Reed looked adequately confused by the doctor’s send off. “Thank you, Doctor, but I fear it won’t be that agreeable after all.”

“Oh, one could never know, Lieutenant.”

“Good evening, Doctor,” Isabelle stated and started limping down the corridor. Better to end this before it could become any more embarrassing. After five steps Reed was at her side again.

“Do you need any assistance?”

Isabelle clenched her teeth and shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you.” The last thing she needed right now was his arm around her waist. Fortunately, they only had one deck to go up in the turbolift. During the last few meters her knee hurt pretty badly. She managed anyway.

They found crewman Pierson already waiting at her door. At once, Isabelle was relieved that he would cover the evening shift and not his superior. Reed instantly turned to leave.

“There’s still a lot to arrange for tomorrow. Good evening, Professor.”

“See you tomorrow,” Isabelle heard herself reply then followed the young crewman inside. Her talk was not quite finished either.

As she checked one of her analyses for the second time, she began to wonder. What would happen if she told Reed about the doctor’s advice? Not that she planned on doing it, but just hypothetically. She suddenly remembered his smell and how firm his body had felt against her own during the training session. Angrily, she pushed the thought away. That Dr. Phlox really was a master of his art. There was work to do. The presentation would not write itself. So she programmed the next chart. And then she wondered some more…


	9. Arrival

Most people thought Malcolm Reed the worst pessimist onboard Enterprise. He did not agree. He just deemed unfounded optimism the greatest danger for a man in his position. There were so many ways in which this mission could turn into a disaster. 

For a start, they still had no lead on the person responsible for blowing up the professor’s quarters. Despite countless extra hours and additional manpower from other divisions, the case remained a mystery. Malcolm could tell the captain was not pleased. At least they would leave that danger behind when they arrived at Acada Prime.

Second, Murphy’s law seemed to have travelled with them from Earth. Ensign Cole, the chosen pilot and backup, got injured during the final security check of the shuttlepod. It was nothing too serious but Dr. Phlox declared the man unfit for duty and refused to let him go on the trip. Malcolm had to fall back on Ensign Socorro. She was familiar with most of the monitoring devices he planned to employ.

Additionally, Isabelle Dubois herself could always be trusted to do something stupid. She might just get carried away with the excitement of the conference or she would do it on purpose just to annoy him. Annoying him seemed to be one of her greater goals in life.

Last but not least he considered himself a growing liability for the mission. An unknown environment required a tactical officer at the peak of his performance. He needed to stay alert and assess risks objectively. Most importantly: He needed to stay coolheaded all the time. That was his major problem. The walls of his self-control had become rather fragile lately.

His present alertness also left a lot to be desired. He had scheduled his bedtime half an hour early to be well rested today – only to toss and turn forever reproaching himself for his behavior during the self-defense lesson that evening.

Yes, it had only been logical to take over from Socorro to evaluate Dubois’ performance. But once he had singled out the problem, why had he not stepped aside and let Socorro take over again? That was the purpose of her presence after all. To partner with Dubois so that he did not have to. But then Dubois had barked at him, that she was not afraid of body contact, her dark eyes almost blazing. His mouth went dry each time he recalled it. After that, he had just forgotten about his self-imposed rule. It had been such a mistake to hold her tight like that and to let her hair brush his cheek again and again. Now he was not able to forget that her curls smelled of tropical flowers and a spice he could not quite identify. A huge and unforgivable mistake. No wonder sleep had eluded him for hours.

Lying wide awake in the darkness, torn by self-doubt, Malcolm had worried if he was actually going insane. He did not like Isabelle Dubois. The woman was as much a nuisance and infuriating as the first day she had set foot on Enterprise. Yet those inappropriate thoughts distracted him more and more. Would he be able to make the right decisions being around her all the time? Could he avoid errors while she was mocking him? Or would he simply snap and endanger both of them?

As the last straw he had almost yelled at a superior officer. The fact that they would pass themselves off as husband and wife had delighted Commander Tucker, of course. He could not stop teasing Malcolm about it. During their last meal together, Malcolm had slammed his unbreakable cup so hard onto the table, it actually displayed a dent afterwards. The whole mess hall had stared at him.

When they boarded the shuttlepod at 1100 hours, he already was more exhausted than he had any right to be. He felt strangely out of place in his civilian clothes. They had all agreed that Dubois’ fake husband would certainly not be a Starfleet officer. Ensign Socorro took the helm. She was playing the role of their pilot after all. Malcolm’s task was the sensor station. It was much safer if two persons monitored their flightpath. At least it took his thoughts off Isabelle Dubois. The professor was sitting in the third seat with pursed lips and crossed arms. She was probably still sulking because of their last quarrel. It had once again involved her luggage. Malcolm had calmly stated that it was not a good idea to wear a scarf or a necklace when somebody was out to murder you.

“The attacker could strangle you like that,” he had explained, snapping his fingers. “And I could do almost nothing about it.”

“So would you consider everyone wearing a scarf around me a potential threat? They could use theirs on me after all.”

“Other people’s luggage is not my concern. Yours is.”

The argument had evolved from there. Sometimes Malcolm could not believe it. The woman was a scientist with an interstellar reputation for God’s sake. Why did she question even the most evident strategies?

In the end, she had tossed back her hair remarking: “I had no idea my neck needs to be bare to be saved.”

Well, there were definitely other things he would like to do to her neck. He just could not determine if they would be fatal or pleasurable. Both alternatives appealed to him.

Form orbit, Acada Prime looked like a whirl of ochre and green. Cloud covering was minimal. The sensors detected nothing to disturb their flight. Every vessel was given a predestined entrance corridor and a fixed timeslot. No two shuttles would arrive simultaneously. Malcolm had to admire the amount of organization. It was all for the sake of security, of course. No vessel would be allowed to land before the passenger of the vessel before it had made his way from the landing port to the premises. It required a lot of effort to keep the science outpost neutral and safe for attendants of all species. It was quite a unique facility in their tiny part of the galaxy.

Descending towards the surface, mountain ranges and giant dried up river beds came into view. The continent had a semi-arid climate. The temperatures were just above Malcolm’s comfort level which was not very high considering he had grown up in England and spent years in San Francisco.

From the other side of the shuttlepod he heard a small gasp. Isabelle Dubois was leaning forward in her seat towards the small window.

“It’s so beautiful. I’ve never been on a planet outside the solar system before.”

“The first one is always special, Mam,” Socorro answered. He could tell by her voice that she was displaying one of her slight smiles. The ensign’s’ interaction with Dubois had become really laid-back in the last few days. The realization made him feel jealous. So, there were actually people Dubois did get along with. If he could only switch posts with Ensign Socorro. The two women would have no problems in each other’s company. He knew Socorro to be a diligent and highly efficient security officer, always striving to meet his standards. But, alas, he could not risk it. At least Isabelle Dubois’ bad mood had evaporated.

“Approaching ten thousand meters,” he informed Socorro.

“Initiating landing protocols.”

Socorro managed a perfect touchdown. Malcolm knew that they were on a tight schedule. Nevertheless, he took the time to go over all the critical points for the next three days with the ensign.

“If you register anything out of the ordinary, contact me immediately,” he reminded her one last time.

“Yes, Sir.”

He turned to Isabelle Dubois who was already standing near the hatch. She obviously was eager to finally set foot on Acada Prime.

“Do you have your universal translator?”

“Yes, Sir,” she echoed Ensign Socorro’s response. “I even know how to use it.”

Malcolm felt something in him already clenching in the first hint of anger. Then he took a deep breath. _Don’t let her get to you,_ he reminded himself. “Lovely. We should be going then.”

The hatch hissed open and a gush of warm wind engulfed them. It carried the mineral smell of dust and scorched metal. Malcolm slung his personal travel bag over his shoulder and picked up the case containing the technical equipment. T’Pol had run double-checks. None of the components would violate any of the regulations.

The sky outside displayed an unearthly shade of blue. As they made their way to the edge of the landing field, the hot sun burned their backs. Malcolm felt himself already starting to sweat. Great, just what he needed to make the next three days even less comfortable. Fortunately, they soon entered the shaded arrival area where they had to insert their luggage into an automated scanner for clearance.

Standing there in the breeze, Isabelle Dubois looked nothing short of radiant. Her face was flushed with excitement while her dark eyes drank in all of her surroundings. Her caramel skin took on an almost golden hue in the blazing sunlight. Single curls had escaped her bun and fluttered around her neck like tendrils. She did not look like someone to start another argument just yet. Perfect conditions to address at least one of his smaller issues.

“I have to admit, Professor, improvisation is not one of my stronger talents.”

Dubois tore her gaze away from the distant mountains to look at him. She chuckled. “No problem, I can improvise for the both of us. For a start, stop calling me professor. Otherwise you can return to Enterprise right away. Isabelle would do just fine.”

“Isabelle it is.” It sounded awfully intimate. He decided to avoid it whenever possible.

The monitor on the side of the building suddenly displayed a blinking violet circle. A computer voice chimed out of an invisible speaker. “Security check is complete. Please continue to the access lock. Welcome to the Acada Prime science facility.”

Dubois smiled. To his astonishment she reached out and took his arm as if he had offered it to her.

“Keeping up appearances, Malcolm”, she explained, stressing the use of his first name. “And speaking of which, not to offend you, but no husband of mine would be allowed to dress like this.” She openly examined his attire and pulled a face.

Suddenly Malcolm had the feeling these were going to be the three longest days of his life.


	10. Welcome

Isabelle Dubois’ real marriage had lasted for more than three years. After that time they both had agreed that it was better for them to end things. There were no hard feelings. She still saw Gabriel occasionally when they attended the same conferences or he happened to be in Paris. He was a bio-physicist from Montreal developing new technology for molecular research. They even had published a paper together.

Isabelle Dubois’ second marriage was a fake from the beginning and not supposed to last for more than three days. Two hours in, she already felt the strong urge to file for divorce.

The excitement of actually being on an alien planet had carried her through all their entry procedures. She had only visited space stations before. It did not compare to an alien wind against her face. Then they had been shown to their quarters and things had begun spiraling down from there.

The accommodations for the scientists were located in two-storey houses in the peripheries of the compound. Their quarters covered the upper floor of a squat building. It could be accessed via a staircase built into the outer wall. Climbing up, Isabelle leaned on the rail to support her injured knee. It started to complain about the walk from the shuttlepod. Already she saw a frown building on Reed’s face. Surely he was checking out escape routes and other silly stuff. She still thought his presence an unnecessary annoyance but at the moment she could not afford to feel angry. She had a countenance to keep.

The staff member showing them around was Rigellian. On their way Isabelle already had noticed one Denobulan and two Deltans. Even the personnel incorporated the spirit of interplanetary cooperation and exchange.

Their quarters themselves exceeded any expectations. There was a rather large parlor and a bedroom with an ensuite bathroom. A wall with an open arch separated the two areas. The windows were overlooking the valley with its sparse vegetation. In the distance, ragged summits grazed the sky. A small balcony promised an even better view. Isabelle listened politely to all explanations of the built-in food synthesizer, the work station and the environmental controls. After spending the last seven days on a spaceship, it all seemed an outrageous luxury.

Trouble started as soon as the Rigellian left. Isabelle dropped her bag on the bed – it was huge and looked extremely comfortable – and instantly approached the glass doors leading to the balcony. They opened at the press of a button. A wonderful breeze rushed in. Isabelle stepped out, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Reed’s hand closed around her upper arm and pulled her back into the room. He was not very gentle about it.

Angrily, Isabelle yanked free of his grip. “Getting some fresh air. Admiring the view.”

“You are not on holidays. That balcony is a security hazard bound to happen.”

“Ah yes, I forgot the snipers hidden in the undergrowth.” She did not care about the sarcasm dripping from her every word.

Reed averted his gaze and took a deep breath. When he looked at her again, his face was perfectly straight. “I’m sorry if I offended you. Look, we are both here to do our jobs. Why don’t you sit down, do your job, finish your talk, get acquainted with the agenda, and let me do mine?” 

Isabelle did not grace this with an answer. She just left him standing there, fetched her PADD and approached the workstation. It would be convenient to work on a bigger screen again. Before she could even reach for the power button, Reed appeared at her side.

“Excuse me. Let me do this.”

Compliant for the sake of truce, she took a step back. He first checked the bottom side of the desk and any visible power couplings before activating the station. The screen instantly sprang to life, displaying mostly blue and violet clouds of symbols. Reed frowned, the strange glow emphasizing every edge of his face.

“It seems to be alright,” he finally stated and moved aside.

Isabelle had already identified a port that looked like it could connect her PADD to the station. Silently she got to work, figuring out the symbols so she could load her talk. It was not easy. A lot of trial and error was involved before the first of her graphs appeared on the big screen. To make things worse, she found it impossible to concentrate.

Her stomach still glowed with swallowed anger. He had simply reprimanded her like a petulant child. Had he never been excited about anything? Most certainly not. She suspected he had stepped on his first alien planet with a frown on his face and a phase pistol in his hand. Just the right guy to establish friendly cooperation.

Isabelle stifled a sigh when she caught sight of the mountains on the other side of the valley. She was more than willing to put her work off till later and go exploring the compound. Fat chance with little Mr. Sunshine at her heels like a grumpy watchdog.

In the meantime, he was done with scanning their quarters excessively. Now he was reassembling all his little security toys that would alert him when somebody sneezed in the next house. Isabelle paused a minute to watch him. It looked like a delicate kind of work. Some of the devices were not bigger than a fingernail yet seemed to require sensitive handling. Reed certainly was skilled at it. Every movement was precise, not a squeeze or press unnecessary. His fingers seemed to know exactly what they were doing. That kind of precision would surely come in handy in other situations.

 _Oh no!_ As soon as Isabelle realized that last thought, she hastily diverted her attention back to the screen. That Dr. Phlox should come with a warning attached. How could he have gotten into her head like that? Surely the tension of her whole situation was to blame. Not that she was opposed in general to the idea of casual sex with a suitable man or woman. She had had her share of short- and long-term lovers in the past. But if one word did not apply to Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, it certainly was casual.

Yet, ever since Phlox had mentioned his screw-for-the-sake-of-scientific-progress advice, it kept popping up whenever her brain was engaged otherwise. Okay, there were two options. She could suppress it and be startled by the thought every time it raised its ugly head, or she could think it through and clear her mind of it.

She let her eyes wander back to Reed kneeling in front of the open gadget case. Okay, pros and cons. He had a nice body. Lean but strong. That much was evident without the bulky uniform. She liked the way he smelled. That was a strong point on the pro side. And there were those pretty pale blue eyes that looked so out of place in his furrowed face. He had an abysmal taste in clothes though. Fortunately, he had already taken off that hideous jacket. More importantly, he just was an uptight pain in the ass obsessed with protocol. That surely would take the fun out of anything sexual. Plus he evidently did not like her. Quite some strong cons here. Admittedly, she had never realized that his neck looked almost delicate from this point of view.

At that moment Reed turned his head. “Can I help you with anything?” he asked impatiently. Instantly, Isabelle felt an unfamiliar heat rush to her face. He had caught her staring.

“Yes, actually,” she promptly replied. “I was wondering – do you have a preferred pet name I should call you?”

The badly hidden indignation on his face was enough to compensate her for his rudeness earlier. “I don’t think we have to go to such lengths.”

Isabelle smiled. Forget the Denobulan way of easing tension. This was enough fun already. “Never underestimate authenticity.”

“Nobody has doubted our cover so far. Just keep improvising. It obviously works.”

“ _Pas de problème, chéri_.”

“Do not ever call me that again,” he stated slowly with a warning flash in his eyes. Isabelle bit her lip. Odd, how his British accent seemed to intensify with rising irritation.

She turned back to the screen and opened the conference itinerary. The official opening would start in three hours, followed by an informal get-together afterwards. Sessions would not start till the next morning. She noticed that there was a break around noon every day. Her talk was scheduled for the day after tomorrow directly after the lunch break. Of course she knew that already. It was one of the most important skills for any scientist to keep up to date about deadlines. As she shifted her weight, her left knee sent a sting up her thigh. Time to leave the workstation and finally sit down.

Isabelle detached the PADD, sank down on the couch and got rid of her shoes. Dr. Phlox had reminded her that putting up her leg would ease the healing process. Moving up the hem of her skirt she examined her knee. It sported a big bruise in an ugly purple color. Fortunately, she had not planned on wearing a short skirt anyway.

Meanwhile, Reed had put together all of his equipment and began placing it in strategic locations. He fixed tiny sensors onto the frame of the outer door and the windows. Then he vanished through the archway heading for the bathroom.

“Don’t forget to install the camera in the shower,” she called after him. “You wouldn’t want to miss anything.” She did not have to check. Isabelle just knew that his ears were turning scarlet right now. He was such an easy target.

After that, she decided to go easy on him for the rest of the afternoon. No need to strain his patience to breaking point. Not yet anyway. Smiling to herself she settled down to catch up on published research by the other scientists attending the conference. There were a number of names she had never heard about. That Andorian professor, for example. He had the most extraordinary ideas about the effects of climate on the development of sentient species. No surprise his articles did not make it through the Vulcan information channels. There were definitely some questions she would like to ask him. As she began taking notes, not even Reed’s efforts in transforming their quarters into a virtual fortress could diminish her anticipation. This was what she was meant to do. She could not wait to get started.

They managed to maintain a silent ceasefire until it was time to leave for the official opening.

“You are not wearing that jacket while acting as my husband. Do yourself a favor and burn it immediately.”

“Dress codes vary considerably on different planets. I assure you, nobody will take offence.”

“My eyes are taking offence. Take it off.” Isabelle crossed her arms not breaking eye contact. In this matter she would not back down.

Cursing under his breath he actually complied, removing a small scanning device from the terrible garment and putting it in the pocket of his trousers. His grey button-down shirt at least was only boring, not violating all rules of good taste. She had been around scientists for decades. She could handle boring clothes.

Outside, the sun was already sinking towards the far mountains. Temperatures were still up, though. Isabelle did not mind. It almost felt like an August evening at home. Only the air was much cleaner, almost pristine.

The main conference building was located in the middle of the complex. People were gathering from all directions to the open square in front of it. Isabelle felt Reed growing tense at her side. Halfway from their quarters she had taken his arm again. Not only to keep up appearances but also because of her knee. The injury was less than 24 hours old after all. She also realized that she was warming up to their little charade. The renowned scientist from earth bringing her younger second husband along. That sounded not so bad after all. Not that he actually looked younger with all the frowning.

Mingling with the crowd, Isabelle could not help getting exhilarated. They were the only humans around. She almost let out a little squeal when she spotted the first Andorian. She had never met one in person before.

They got nametags at a desk directly behind the doors. Not ordinary nametags of course, but highly sophisticated pieces of technology. They featured built-in language recognition like the universal translator. Whenever you talked to someone, it registered the person’s language and displayed your name and affiliation accordingly. Isabelle could not wait to see her name and the words “Sorbonne Université” and “Earth” transform into alien symbols.

“Those are amazing. Do you think we can keep them?”

Reed eyed his nametag skeptically. “I am almost certain they contain tracking devices amongst other things.” Judging by the look on his face, it opened up a whole new world of possible threats. “It states that you are my affiliation,” he announced indignantly.

Isabelle put on a charming smile. “Get used to the idea, Malcolm. I am the main person here. You are just an appendage.” It obviously unsettled him when she used his first name. She made a note to do it more often.

The opening was held at a huge auditorium. Its rows could easily seat a thousand people. The little more than a hundred participants of the conference looked almost lost in here. Reed chose seats near the end of a row, so nothing stood between them and their way to the exit. Isabelle did not protest. She was here at last. She would just let him do his thing and dedicate herself to the really important stuff. Hopefully his constant vigilance would not distract her too much.

Thankfully it did not. As she listened to the head of the Deltan science academy welcoming them and introducing the special lecture by Professor Yawael – a very old and distinguished looking Rigellian woman – she could not help gazing around and smiling. Yes, there were no other humans present. The faces looking up at the stage displayed the features of ten different species. Somehow, however, Isabelle felt at home. As different as they all looked, she was amongst her own.

The lecture seemed to rush by and soon enough polite applause filled the hall. All around people gathered to their feet to make their way to the reception area. Isabelle stood up, too.

“That was fun already. Time for the main part of the evening.”

“I strongly advise that we return to our quarters. I cannot guarantee for your safety in such a crowd.” She had noticed his hand slipping into his pocket from time to time, sneaking sensor readings of the vicinity.

“That’s out of the question, Malcolm. You said I should do my job. Well, it does not only include listening to scientific talks and asking uncomfortable questions. It also includes socializing and networking. I will not miss this opportunity.” Ignoring his dark look she pushed her way past him, following the other participants.

In the blink of an eye, he was at her side again. “At least make it quick.” True to his role, he offered her his arm. Isabelle took it.

“I will be fine. Just stay by my side and eliminate everyone standing between me and the drinks.”

His eyebrows rose instantly. “Drinks?”

“Oh, don’t be such a poor sport. Nothing like a nice glass of something strong to further the progress of science.” She found it impossible to be angry or mad at him right now. There were people to be met and possible cooperation partners to be checked out.

The welcome reception was meant to be an informal affair. Small tables were put up here and there. Comfortable chairs stood in little groups at the side. Food and drinks were laid out on different ends of the hall. One side of the room opened to a wide patio overlooking the compound. A light breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of herbs and stone dust.

When they reached the bar, Isabelle had already made a new acquaintance. Her name was Natala from the Denobulan department of Exogenetics and she had a smile that put Phlox to shame. She had attended the conference three times in a row and provided them with all information she deemed essential for any newcomer.

“Colored symbols indicate which beverage or food is suitable for which species. Oh look, they added a new one for your sake. Watch out for the violet circle.”

Isabelle let her eyes drift along the long row of glasses containing liquids of all colors. She could go for the safe option and take something that looked like a very pale white wine. On the other hand, she felt compelled to try something a little more exotic.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking up a narrow shot glass with a shocking blue liquid.

“That’s Andorian ale,” an unfamiliar male voice answered from across the table. “And I wouldn’t recommend it for the likes of you.”

Isabelle looked up to meet the gaze of an Andorian displaying a contemptuous smile. The nametag on his breast flickered and she could suddenly read his name: Shebal Ch’akovas. She recognized it instantly. He was the scientist with the daring hypotheses about temperatures affecting the traits of developing sentience.

Isabelle smiled back. “Well, the sign clearly declares it fit for human consumption. I’ll take my chances then.”

Shebal’s blue antennae moved and now pointed straight forward. It was a most fascinating sight and looked almost intimidating. Before Reed behind her could intervene, Isabelle raised the glass to her lips and downed the drink.

The sensation was instant and eye watering. The liquid burned its way down her throat all the way to her stomach and settled there as a little ball of fire. Isabelle gasped once, then it was all right again. Only a strong herbal taste lingered. Well, it was not unlike that liquor her uncle used to pour on family reunions. Shebal looked surprised, even slightly impressed.

“Not bad,” she managed to sound perfectly composed. “It actually reminds me of a drink from my region on earth. Let me try something.” She fetched a bigger empty glass and a jar of water from the end of the table. Then she put another shot of Andorian ale into the glass and topped it with water. At once, the liquid changed color. Now it looked like milk with a slightly blueish hue.

“What are you doing?” Shebal did nothing to hide the disgust on his blue face. His antennae stood up straight.

“That’s how we drink that kind of liqueur in Paris.” The first sip confirmed her speculation. “It tastes delicious that way.” Isabelle flashed the Andorian a cheerful smile.

For some seconds Shebal stood frozen with shock, then he laughed out loud. “I have heard some things about you humans, but never that you can actually hold your liquor.” His eyes flickered to her nametag. “Isabelle Dubois, would you like to join me for another one? Please don’t mind if I cut short on the water. Your friends can come, too.”

“Thank you. Count me in.” She turned to Natala, who was silently chuckling to herself. “What about you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The Denobulan picked a tall glass with a green beverage and followed Shebal.

Before Isabelle could join them, Reed’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“What do you think you are doing?” he hissed under his breath.

“My job. Socializing and networking.”

“You’re drinking with an Andorian.” He spat out the last word, as if it had a bitter taste.

“Why not, he’s clearly not out to kill me.”

“They are not to be trusted. No one is.”

Leaning in close to keep their conversation private, she caught his scent again. Right now, it nearly had the same effect on her as the ale.

“Relax, Malcolm.” She put a reassuring hand on his upper arm. “Don’t spoil it. You are my second husband. There should be a little bit of fun involved.” With that, she rose on tiptoe and pecked him on the cheek before floating away on a wave of Andorian ale, excitement and a pinch of adrenaline.


	11. Dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody still hanging on. It means so much to me.  
> Chapter 11: Slowly moving in the right direction...

As armory officer of the Enterprise, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed had endured some really uncomfortable nights. Being held hostage with a bullet in his thigh; awaiting execution on a pre-warp alien planet; shivering in an ice cold shuttlepod in the vastness of space with only six hours of air left – he clearly remembered those incidents. The memory just did not make this particular night any less disagreeable.

In the small hours the temperatures dropped considerably, waking him from a restless sleep. The thin blanket had slipped to the floor, exposing him to the cool air. Isabelle Dubois had insisted on leaving one of the windows open. Getting a feel for the planet, she had called it. At that point, Malcolm had not had it in him anymore to fight against her silly ideas. The sensors would go off at anything the size of a fly entering the room. Now, however, the crazy woman was asleep and he could shut the window anytime he pleased.

He stood up from the couch. That had been another issue when they had gotten back from that bloody welcome reception: Malcolm grabbing a pillow and an extra blanket to sleep on the couch.

“Has your sense of propriety been stuck somewhere in the regency era? That’s a perfectly comfortable bed. It’s huge. Three people could sleep in here without coming even close to each other. That couch has back pain written all over it.”

Malcolm had just ignored her. After that horrible evening he had only been certain about one thing: He needed some sleep to keep his nerves from simply giving out. He would not get it lying under the same cover, being painfully aware of the warmth eradiating from her body.

Well, she had been right about the back pain. Making his way to the bedroom, he could already feel an uncomfortable tightness in his shoulders. After closing the window, he lingered for some moments. The security devices in sight all seemed to function properly. A tiny red sensor light glowed in the darkness beside the nightstand.

He was not worried that he could wake her. After her five drinks of Andorian ale she was bound to sleep soundly till the morning. She looked almost innocent lying there on her side, her curls a mess on the pillow. No mocking, no arguing, no smiling at an Andorian who would only take his eyes off her to sneer at Malcolm. Shebal clearly thought that Malcolm’s refusal of any alcohol proofed him deficient in other departments as well. The Andorian could thank his good fortune that he was a professional and an officer. Every other man would have put a fist to that insolent blue face of his for sure. Malcolm’s right hand still felt the urge to punch something. Hard.

Back on the couch he spread the blanket over himself and closed his eyes. He could also still feel the spot on his left cheek where Dubois had kissed him. What had she been thinking? Probably nothing. “Going with the flow” or “keeping up appearances” would most likely be her explanation. He should tell her to refrain from it in the future. It had left him stunned for at least a minute. A lot of things could happen in that time.

He did not really go back to sleep that night. Every time he dozed off, something startled him: An unfamiliar humming from the food synthesizer, a small flying animal investigating the balcony, the beginnings of a dream featuring Isabelle Dubois and himself on the moonlit bed in excruciating detail.

Being wide awake after the last one, he decided to give up on sleep altogether. The time was almost 0500 hours anyway. Better to get an early start. He should take a closer look at those nametags. Malcolm got up, dug some clothes out of his travel bag and headed to the bathroom. The dream had left him in need of a cold shower.

Afterwards, he checked the sensor readings Socorro had monitored from the shuttle. The connection worked without any problems. The ensign did not report any glitches or unusual fluctuations. At least one problem to tick off his list. He sent her a message that her shift was over early and he would take watch again. They had brought communicators but for absolute emergencies only.

The time was 0600 now. He did not feel bad about using the food synthesizer at that time in the morning. The first session was scheduled at 0900 anyway. Malcolm decided against tea. It was easier to endure replica coffee than fake tea. As long as it contained enough caffeine for that matter. He was in for a surprise. The hot liquid did not taste worse than the coffee on Enterprise. He could live with that.

Before he removed even the tiniest screw from the nametag, he had to take extensive sensor readings. He did not want to trigger an alarm in the system, drawing attention. No one had asked any uncomfortable questions about him so far. He intended things to stay that way. Unfortunately, the scanner had to be recalibrated extensively. Soon Malcolm was so immersed in his work that he lost track of time.

Acada Prime’s sun had risen well over the horizon when Isabelle Dubois finally stirred. She sat up, stretched like a cat and went straight for the food synthesizer to get a cup of coffee. Obviously, she did not feel the need to put something on first. She appeared to be perfectly comfortable in her purple nightshirt. It possessed ludicrously thin straps and fell only halfway down her thighs. After a first sip and an appreciative tilt of the head she slouched down into one of the two armchairs. Turning sideways she dangled her legs over the armrest.

“Good morning, Malcolm. How was the couch?” Oh, she just loved using his first name every chance she got. Probably because she knew how uncomfortable it made him feel.

“It was fine,” he answered, eyes fixed firmly on the little screen in his hand.

“What are you doing so early anyway?”

“My job.”

Dubois chuckled behind her cup. It should not be allowed for any attractive female to launch in a chair half-naked like that. Especially if she was a bloody nuisance and he had to concentrate on a delicate security task. How many cold showers was he supposed to take today?

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then.” With that she drank the rest of her coffee, stood up and vanished back into the bedroom. She managed to almost brush him passing by. Great, now he would fail to erase the image of her bare shapely legs from his mind for the rest of the morning.

To distract himself, Malcolm began putting his nametag back together again. As suspected it featured a tracking device tapped into a central network. To disable it would mean causing suspicion. That was the last thing he needed. His only concern now was how secure this network actually proofed to be. If the wrong person gained access, he could find out every participant’s whereabouts. The possibility made his utmost alertness even more important.

Obviously, Isabelle Dubois was not the kind of woman to take forever in the bathroom. Soon she reappeared fully dressed, PADD in her hand. Her hair was slightly damp. Of course she wore no shoes. She activated the workstation, connected the PADD and turned to the food synthesizer in search of more coffee and breakfast.

“Cinnamon rolls,” she exclaimed surprised. Seconds later he heard the sound of reassembling proteins. “They really put in quite an effort to include human food.” She carried her breakfast over to the desk and started working.

It was well beyond 0800 hours already. Not long till they would leave for the first session. Keeping in the shadow, Malcolm peeked out of the front window. The upstairs quarters across the lane still seemed to be unoccupied. Considering the number of scientists, that could be nothing to worry about. Or it could be all the more reason to keep an eye on it.

“Could you please stop that?”

Surprised, Malcolm turned around to find Isabelle Dubois standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“I cannot concentrate with you standing there like an invasion could barge in through that door any second. Can’t you just give it a break for one moment?”

“Sorry to bother you. I’m only doing my job.”

“If I hear that phrase one more time…” She bit her lip clearly trying to calm down. “Sorry, but we have to do something about this.”

“About what?” Perhaps she really had lost it this time. That woman was unpredictable.

She made a vague gesture pointing from her to him and back. “About this. We can’t go on like this. Not for two more days.”

Secretly Malcolm agreed. “Perhaps you should cut down on the Andorian ale?” he offered. 

“As I recall, you didn’t mind the ale in particular, but the networking.”

“And if you call that Andorian’s behavior networking, I’m surprised spouses are allowed to attend at all.” There was the first slip of his countenance for today. And it was not 0900 yet. He wondered how many would follow.

Something about his answer had shut Dubois up. Instead of snapping back she crossed her arms and looked him over thoughtfully. He could not stand it for long before averting his gaze. He had caught her with that same look on her face yesterday staring at him. It made him quite nervous.

“We could just find an agreement of some sort,” she finally said.

“I thought we already had one. We do our respective jobs while trying not to interfere with the other one.”

“Ah yes, and that’s working just fine, isn’t it?” She gave an exasperated sigh, uncrossing her arms to draw back her hair in that cursed habit of hers.

“Stop it!” The commanding tone of his voice startled both of them. Who knew the second slip would come so soon? Dubois froze, fingers still buried in her curls, dark eyes wide.

“Excuse me?”

There was no going back now. He clenched his teeth. “That thing with your hair…just don’t do it.” Slowly she lowered her hands, giving him that scrutinizing look again. “What bothers you about it?”

Malcolm did not answer. There was nothing to say. He took half a step back and crossed his arms defensively.

Dubois, however, did not seem prepared to let go of the matter so easily. “Maybe we can work out at least that. Why does it disturb you so much?”

Malcolm stood his ground. Remaining silent was his only hope of coming out of this situation with his face intact. He fixed his gaze somewhere above her left shoulder. There was not much time left till the first session. He could hold his tongue till then.

After a terrible minute of silence, something unexpected happened. Isabelle Dubois smiled. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

“If you can’t say it, could you show me? Otherwise, I can’t do anything about it.” Malcolm felt a sudden rush of panic. Did she guess his thoughts? Was he such an open book after all? “I dare you, Malcolm. Show me. I promise I won’t feel offended.”

All his tactical expertise did not help him now. He was cornered. Only two options remained. He could entrench himself behind his silence and be a coward. Or he could take the dare head on and make a fool of himself. Coward or fool – what a choice. But would she dare him if she knew what he craved to do every time she drew her hair back that way? He would not put it past her.

She still stood there with a half-smile on her full lips, looking like challenge personified. What the hell! No Reed had ever been called a coward.

“Turn around.” His voice suddenly sounded hoarse.

She obeyed without hesitation. Well, that must be a first. All of a sudden the situation seemed highly unreal. Almost like an offshoot of last night’s dream. Like a sleepwalker he closed the distance between them. He got as close as during their training sessions.

“Repeat it now.” This time it was hardly more than a whisper.

Her movements were teasingly slow. Did she enjoy being watched? Savor the anticipation? His eyes followed her hands gathering up her curls, twisting them twice. As she drew the twirled mess over her left shoulder, he laid his hands on her hips, leaned in and kissed the side of her neck.

He was rewarded with a sharp inhale that turned into a slight moan. No more encouragement was needed. Keeping her hair out of the way with his left hand, Malcolm pressed his lips once more to her soft skin. The smell of tropical flowers engulfed him. It perfectly matched his memory. Unable to stop, he traced a trail up her neck to her hairline. His mouth was growing bolder, adding a short suck now and then. Feeling her shiver under his touch, he pulled her close to him, holding his breath as their bodies met.

He was so lost in the sensation that it took him completely by surprise when Isabelle span around in his arms, reached for the back of his head and drew him in for a kiss. Not just any kiss but a full on assault. Malcolm instinctively responded the same way. Their tongues met, making him groan deep in his throat. It was the kind of kiss that went straight to the groin. He buried his fingers in her hair. None of them was about to stop. They barely parted to gasp for breath before plunging in again. She tasted of cinnamon and broken rules. He needed this badly. He could not get enough of it.

A piercing sound rang through their quarters. It came from the little table in front of the couch. A second later the same shrill beep sounded from the bedroom. Three times it echoed through the morning air like an argument between monstrous birds.

Simultaneously, they drew away from each other, hair disheveled, faces flushed. Their nametags! They obviously contained an alarm service for the conference schedule. They were going to be late for the first session.


	12. Calculations

On her way through the Acada Prime Science Facility, Isabelle Dubois could not stop smiling. She was walking as fast as her injured knee allowed her to and feeling like a schoolgirl again. Being late because she lost track of time kissing a boy. Those days were still vivid in her memory. How could she forget the mixture of excitement, breathless astonishment and a slightly bad conscience? Only this time she was a respected scientist and a grown woman – and Malcolm Reed was definitely not a boy.

She still could not wrap her mind around it. Who would have expected something like that of the restraint Lieutenant Reed? The one who reprimanded her every time she put a toe out of line. The one who blushed when she mentioned her underwear. Had Dr. Phlox possibly sensed something? Denobulan males were highly perceptive detecting sexual attraction. She herself had not suspected it until his remark about Shebal. After that, it was all too clear why her habit of drawing back her hair bothered him. Repressed sexual attraction: that really explained a lot of their issues. And it opened up a whole new world of possibilities.

That had been one hell of a kiss. She could not remember one like it in the past few years. It had lit up her whole body. That had not been a dissolving of tension – it had been a detonation. And the taste of him… If the alarm signal had not interrupted them, they would be definitely screwing on that desk right now. As far as she was concerned, anyway.

A side glance showed her an even deeper frown than usual on his face. The lips that had sent a jolt of arousal through her body were pressed into a tight line. Oh no, he obviously was reproaching himself. They had almost certainly violated some stupid regulations. She could not let him suffer like this.

“Malcolm.” She put a hand on his upper arm. He actually flinched and drew away. Isabelle, however, could not be shaken off that easily. She reached out again and forced him to face her. “It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’m not going to drag you in front of a court martial for conduct unbecoming an officer.”

That actually made him burst out a short laugh. He lowered his gaze and shook his head. Seeing him ashamed like that was kind of cute. Especially, because it had been such a harmless incident.

“Do I look offended to you? I dared you, remember? And I certainly don’t regret it.” In fact, she wanted to hear that low growl from him again. It had been a most exquisite sound.

“That’s not the point. I’m responsible for your safety under Starfleet orders. Such a violation of protocol will not only reflect badly on…”

“Oh, just shut up.”

“I beg your pardon. It’s not a matter to be…”

“Shut up or I’ll kiss you again right now. I’m calculating.”

She honestly enjoyed the puzzled look in his blue eyes. He seemed completely taken aback.

“I’ve told you my family has an inclination for anarchy. How many times do you estimate we can violate protocol in two days?” She added a smirk that left no doubt about her intentions. 

Isabelle had expected him to blush or at least stare at the floor again. Instead, Reed raised an eyebrow. He appeared to do some calculations of his own. Finally, he wet his lips before replying: “There’s a lunch break at 1300 hours today.”

Isabelle smiled. Closing the gap between them, she reached up and tidied his ruffled hair. She noticed him swallowing hard once.

“1300 hours it is, then.” With that she turned on the spot and hurried towards the main conference building, Reed reliably in her wake. Perhaps their stay on Acada Prime would turn out not so disagreeable after all.


	13. Violations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have stayed just for the smut: We are FINALLY there!

Above all, Malcolm Reed believed in discipline. Some of his crewmates might not deem it overly important, but for him it was the essential trait of any Starfleet officer. Discipline – that was how he got through life. Stick with your orders, give it one hundred percent and follow the rules, regardless of personal issues. Unfortunately, that strategy had failed him completely today.

No, he was not to blame for being physically attracted to his protectee. Those things happened now and then. They posed no problem – unless you acted on them. He was perfectly responsible for taking Isabelle’s dare and one hundred percent guilty of kissing her. He would also be completely accountable for everything that happened from now on. When had he begun to think of her as “Isabelle” anyway? It was highly unprofessional and only added to the difficulties he had gotten himself into.

Why had he agreed to take it further? It was the way she had looked at him while talking about violations of protocol. It had instantly created a dozen dirty images in his mind. No man would have been able to think straight under those conditions. Part of his brainpower simply got rerouted to other systems. That did not stop him from cursing himself later though, while he was sitting through another one of those unintelligible scientific talks.

Isabelle beside him listened with rapt attention. She even raised her hand to ask a question studded with words he had never heard in his life. At least, Malcolm had a task to channel his attention. He needed to keep an eye on everything and anybody. It kept him distracted from the fact that there was only a centimeter of air between their arms. This smaller auditorium had surprisingly narrow seats. He kept track of exits, scientists and personnel, noticed who glanced at whom in what way. The Vulcans proofed to be impeccable as always in that matter. Now, where would he plant an explosive if he was an attacker? He had singled out at least three suitable locations before the first speaker left the podium.

Isabelle had brought her PADD and started taking notes between the talks. The second one did not seem to be that enthralling. It obviously left her enough capacity to ponder on other things. Somewhere halfway through the talk, he felt her leg touching his. He nearly dropped the scanner he had taken out of his pocket a moment ago. A short check showed him that she apparently was still focused on the speaker. Then her leg started to move ever so slowly, rubbing against his. All of a sudden the temperature in the room rose to an uncomfortable level. What was she thinking? Not that he did not like it. It felt way too good, but the timing could not have been worse. There was a short break in ten minutes and he wanted to be able to walk out of this room without being a display for public ridicule.

“Stop it,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Not now.”

Teasingly slow she retreated her leg and crossed it over her other one, rearranging her skirt in the process. She gave him a sly smile before tapping some more notes into her PADD. Malcolm put the scanner back and let out a long exhale. Good, now he had just enough time to compose himself before standing up.

“Could you please refrain from distracting me like this?” he said during the break. They were standing in the shade of some hard-leaved bush growing in a pot right outside the auditorium.

Isabelle snorted. “Those data were awful, and I thought you might enjoy it.” The glass of water in her hand was almost empty.

He actually had enjoyed it too much. “Let me be very clear about this. You are here for the science. I am here for the close protection. It is highly unprofessional and irresponsible to…”

Before he could finish his sentence, she closed his mouth with a kiss. Not a deep one as this morning but a firm and short one.

“And I will do this every time you start rambling about professionalism, appropriate behavior and protocol.” She downed the rest of her water, then turned on her heel. “Don’t linger, Malcom. Session’s recommencing.”

Shaking his head, Malcolm followed her once again into the building. What had he gotten himself into? That woman would surely be the death of him.

He made it to 1300 hours on discipline alone. Admittedly, Isabelle kept her leg and her lips to herself during the next two hours. Ironically, that did not stop him from wanting them back in the most unsuitable moments. There were only so many security risks he could identify. They did not occupy him forever. When his concentration started to slip, his mind instantly began replaying the events of this morning. That included not only their kiss, but also his memory of her in that nightshirt. Her naked legs dangling over the armrest. They should definitely check the environmental controls in this auditorium. They had to be malfunctioning.

And as soon as he had successfully repressed those images in his head, Isabelle was sure to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, stroke her bottom lip with her thumb while concentrating on an analysis or simply breathe, for that matter. When the session was over, he was so ready for any violation of protocol Isabelle might have in mind.

On their way back to their quarters, they neither spoke nor touched. He considered it a safeguard against not being able to make it back at all. The white sun burned down on them. Shadows were sharp and black.

Malcolm went up the staircase first. There still was enough of the tactical officer left to check the tiny electronic seals on the door. The recordings showed nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody had tried to enter their quarters in their absence. He opened the door and took out his scanner.

“First things first.”

Isabelle kicked off her shoes before sinking down on the couch. “Do what you must. I’m right here waiting.”

…and watching. Her eyes never left him while he connected to his security devices and took the necessary measurements. He felt her gaze like a touch between his shoulder blades. The case of the scanner became slightly slippery in his hand. The data transmission seemed to take forever. Finally, he placed the scanner ever so carefully on the table.

Malcolm knew that he did not stand a chance, but the armory officer in him felt it his duty to remark: “I still think this is wrong.”

Isabelle rose to her feet and put her arms around his neck. “Objection noted and denied.” Her kiss was almost lazy this time like she wanted to sample his taste. She briefly sucked his bottom lip before breaking it off. All he dared to do was to wait breathlessly for her next move. But she neither kissed him again, nor closed the cursed gap between their bodies. “As you are so keen on rules, I will lay down some for us. Whatever happens does not leave Acada Prime. Nobody needs to know about this. You won’t get into trouble, I promise. I will deny everything. Is that good enough for you, Lieutenant?”

What was he supposed to do but nod? It would take a stronger man than him to resist her.

She smiled a smile that would make a Vulcan blush. “ _Bon_.” At last she stepped closer, pressing her body against him, making him draw in a sharp breath. She nuzzled the skin below his left ear and added: “Let me be very clear about this: I am here for the science. You are here for the close protection. And in between…we shag.”

Quoting his own words back at him like that finally blew away the last of his resistance. He took her in his arms and kissed her, channeling all the arousal that had built up in him over the last few hours. Isabelle responded in the same way. She opened up letting him explore her mouth in all exquisite detail. She did not taste of cinnamon anymore, but no less intoxicating. Soon they were gasping for breath. His hands traced the curve of her waistline through the thin cloth of her shirt. One of her hands grabbed the back of his head. The other travelled all the way from his collar to his belt tugging at the hem of his shirt. As she touched his bare skin, he could not help a short moan. It was so much better than any imagination. He felt her lips curl in a smile against his, leaving him enough room to run his tongue over her bottom lip. In response she rubbed her pelvis against him sending a jolt of longing through his groin. 

There was no going back from there. His shirt came off followed soon by hers. As she half licked, half sucked the skin over his collar bone, he traced his thumb over the lace of her bra, feeling her nipple stiffen under his touch. With an impatient growl she drew away and reached behind her back with both hands. The bra joined their shirts on the floor. Isabelle paused a moment giving him time to drink in her body in all its glory. Malcolm’s mouth went dry. His trousers, already tighter than usual, became even more uncomfortable.

All women he had been with so far had had their little insecurities. Isabelle obviously had none. She was very sure about her body and very sure about what she wanted from him. Her fingers closed around his wrist and dragged him along. They tumbled onto the couch, legs entwining, mouths glued together, skin rubbing on bare skin. 

It took all of his hard trained self-control not to rip the remaining clothes off her and take her right now. Two things held him back: First, a tiny voice in the back of his head still shouted at him that he was crossing an important line. There would be reprimands. Second, you did not encounter a woman so eager on calling the shots every day. That was definitely hot. He was simply curious and willing to follow her lead.

So he kissed her jaw, her throat, her shoulder gorging himself on her scent while keeping his roaming hands carefully above her waistband. There was enough to keep him occupied at the moment. Her breasts felt soft under his touch and she arched into his hand when he started to knead one of them. Malcolm knew exactly how to proceed from there. Keeping his attention on her breast, he let his free hand draw circles on her belly. His fingers always just grazed her waistband but never dug under it. First she moaned against the side of his neck, clawing at his shoulders and his back. Then, as he simply continued that way, deliberately not reaching down, he felt her anticipation grow into irritation.

“What are you doing?” There was a small wrinkle between her eyebrows and an angry flicker in her eyes.

Malcolm just raised an eyebrow. “You tell me.” He retreated his hands letting them rest lightly on her waist.

For a moment she simply looked surprised. Surprised and gorgeously disheveled. Her curls were an untamed mess, her lips wet and slightly parted. Her breast rose and fell in heavy breaths. Then a dangerous smile spread across her face. It sent a shiver down his spine. She took his face in her hands and kissed him thoroughly. After leaving him breathless, she pushed him away.

“Sit.” Well, he had always been impeccable at following orders.

He ended up with Isabelle on his lap kissing her way down his front. Long before she reached his belt, his fingers were already digging hard into the couch. He was surprised he had not torn the cushion yet. She did not stop there. She slipped from his thighs, opened his belt and trousers and slid her hand inside.

There was still a layer of cloth between her palm and his cock but his hips buckled in response. Isabelle chuckled wrapping her fingers around him for one excruciatingly slow stroke. Malcolm gasped. Oh god, what had he done? Giving himself over to her like that against all regulations? He had always suspected there was something wicked about her. Even more wicked because suddenly her hand disappeared. He could not help but groan as she pulled his trousers all the way down. Impatiently, he kicked them away. He needed her back. Right now.

“Look at me.” How could he not look at her? Standing half naked between his legs, eying him up like she was about to decide which part of him to devour first.

Casually, she shrugged off her skirt. Malcolm swallowed hard. The sight of her only wearing panties and a hungry look on her face evaporated everything else from his mind. Why had he decided to follow her lead again? He wanted to grab her, push her down on the floor and screw her till she screamed his name. He clenched his teeth. _Discipline_ – he reminded himself.

“Touch me.” As he obediently reached out, she took his hand and guided it between her legs. The cloth was damp and hot. He felt short cropped hair through the fabric. By now, he was painfully hard. The fact that Isabelle started rubbing against his palm did not make it any better. Nor did the soft moans that escaped her lips.

“Take them off.” Never had he been so eager to carry out an order. He pushed the panties down her legs, only to instantly reach up again, driving a finger between her folds. He was rewarded with a sharp inhale. She obviously did not care that this was more than she had told him. Her eyes fell shut. Her hand took hold of his wrist to keep him right there. Keeping his gaze fixed on her face, he pushed two fingers inside her. This time she actually cried out. Malcolm smiled. _Not so wicked now, are you, Professor?_

If Isabelle wanted to gain back control, she certainly was in no rush to do so. Instead, she rocked her hips back and forth, letting his fingers fuck her. Malcolm did not object either. Too delicious was the sight of her biting down hard on her bottom lip to refrain from whimpering. She was extremely wet and apparently close to coming. Maybe he could send her over the edge right now. But as he started to rub his thumb against her clit, she pulled his hand away from her.

“Not yet”, she panted. “Not like this.” She all but tore his boxers off him. Then she settled on his lap again, face to face, legs spread wide.

“Now tell me, Lieutenant,” she said close to his ear while she wrapped her hand around his cock. “Did you lie here last night, all by yourself, thinking of me?”

Malcolm drew in a sharp breath. Why did she ask such stupid questions? Was she not supposed to be super smart? It was obvious wasn’t it? He was not able to answer anyway. Finally she was back again, giving him what he needed. Oh, how he needed it. He started to thrust into her grip. It just felt so fucking good. Suddenly, she let go of him. He groaned in frustration. 

“Answer me. Did you think of me?”

“Yes,” he hissed, getting an instant reward as she lifted herself up and sat down on him, taking him in all at once in a swift motion.

This time they moaned simultaneously. For a moment, none of them moved. Then Isabelle wrapped her legs around his back and started to rock gently. Malcom clutched her buttocks. He had to hold on to something. This was so much better than any violation of protocol he could ever dream about in the small hours.

Soon her movements took up speed and force. Malcolm gritted his teeth, drawing on the last reserve of his discipline. This was heaven. He wanted to do this for hours. Fact was, he would not last that long. A couple of minutes tops.

Isabelle herself was already panting. She had closed her eyes holding on to his upper arms for support. Malcolm could not take his eyes off her. There was this image from his memory that he had repressed for days. The one that hunted him since the day of the explosion. It fit perfectly. Her face flushed, eyebrows furrowed, her fingers clawing at him for her very life. She was already on the brink again. It would not take much. Without giving it a second thought, his right hand left her bottom and went to where they were joined. When he started rubbing her clit, her breath actually hitched. Her thrusts became shorter, faster. He felt her starting to clench around him.

But right then, moments before she came on top of him, she opened her eyes and gazed straight at him. That finally did it for him and coherent thought was not an option for a little while.


	14. Manners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments. There could be no greater motivation.  
> We're in for more smut this chapter and although it felt right while I was writing it, I'm not 100% certain now if I kept Malcolm IC. Please let me know what you think.

Isabelle Dubois had always been a woman who kept her own council. She listened to suggestions, she acknowledged the opinions of others, and she did not reject advice. In the end, however, she only followed her own decisions. Parents, teachers and colleagues had been driven to despair on countless occasions. As she turned on the shower for the second time that day though, she could not help but feel glad that she had given the Denobulan way of resolving tension a try.

She closed her eyes and let the warm water engulf her. She had not felt this relaxed since – well, actually since before her last paper had come out and the flood of publicity and death threats had started. And all thanks to having sex with the disagreeable Mr. Reed. It still sounded surreal, when you put it into words. Perhaps she had underestimated the amount of tension on her side. Obviously, she had needed it as badly as he did.

She felt her lips curl into a smile when she thought about what had just happened out there. Telling him what to do for a change – that certainly held potential. There was only one tiny thing bothering her: His basic restraint was still firmly in place. She had felt it in the background. It had only given out near the end. Perhaps during the last minute before he had come with a low groan from the depth of his throat. A sound she wanted to store away in her memory for private lonesome moments. Next time she wanted him to really lose it. And there would definitely be a next time. She would see to that.

Maybe she should compose a thank-you note to Dr. Phlox. Their interpersonal tension had diminished instantly. They had not moved for several minutes afterwards. It had been a most intimate moment. Holding on to him while they caught their breaths, his forehead resting on her shoulder, sweat cooling on their naked bodies. Then her injured knee had complained violently about its position. Carefully she had extended it to the side.

“Ah, that’s much better,” she had sighed when the pain had subsided.

Leaning back, Reed had given her a half smirk. “My pleasure.”

Isabelle had burst out laughing, barely suppressing the urge to smack him on the head. And while she had been laughing, he had watched her with an amused twinkle in his eye and a sly smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

She turned the shower off and reached for a towel. The man had made a joke and smiled at her. What would come next? Well, she still had almost two days left to find out. Wrapping herself in the towel, she discovered that she had left her clothes outside. That should not pose a problem anymore. There was nothing he had not seen already. She put the towel back up to dry and left the bathroom as naked as she had entered it.

In the parlor, Reed had put on his boxers in the meantime and was actually already occupied with some data readings. And people called her obsessed with work.

“So, any hazardous situations while we were busy?” she asked as she picked up her shirt.

Of course he managed to blush. Old habits did die hard after all.

“Everything’s fine.” At least he did not even pretend to look away as she bent down in front of him to retrieve her skirt and panties.

“Good news then.” Isabelle decided to make a tactical retreat into the bedroom. She needed to get new panties. These ones were drenched. She felt his gaze following her bare bottom all the way. Unfortunately, there was no time for a second round. Afternoon sessions would start in an hour and she intended to complete some notes before that. Plus, she was actually famished. It was called lunch break for a reason.

Obviously, Reed had reached the same conclusion. She had not yet finished dressing when he crossed the bedroom on his way to the shower. This time, her eyes were doing the appreciative lingering. Perhaps she would not have complained about close protection in the first place if he had done it in his underwear. Admittedly, there was not that much of him. He would have been scrawny had his slim frame not displayed the result of countless training hours. There was nothing soft about Mr. Reed except for his hair and the skin on his neck. The rest seemed to be made up entirely of wiry muscles and rigid self-control. Not a bad sight to behold. It was a pity she could not join him in the shower right now. Resolutely she put on her shirt and braved the food synthesizer’s control panel in search of an edible meal.

She actually found some adventurous mixture between pasta and a green salad. It tasted surprisingly good. Additionally, as a bonus, she had one hand free for her PADD while eating. Time was running out for the next session and she wanted to be as prepared as possible.

Sometime during the second article on neural differentiation under varying temperatures, Reed joined her at the table with a plate of his own. Isabelle barely acknowledged his presence. She had found a flaw in the experimental setting as well as in the interpretation of the data. Her fingers all but flew over the screen, typing notes and searching for further references and citations. A certain pattern began to emerge, and it did not surprise her. She wondered if anybody had dared to address it before.

Suddenly, she became aware that Reed was watching her.

“What is it?”

“You are smiling,” he observed.

“Oh.“ Well, he was certainly right about that. She actually could not stop. “You will like this, too: Shebal’s talk is coming up this afternoon, and I intend to give him hell.”

He did not smile back but he looked kind of pleased nevertheless. “Just don’t be too aggressive about it. If I may say so, the last thing you need right now is a new enemy.”

Isabelle shrugged. “I already have a target painted on my chest. Why stop now? Gives you something to do, apart from undressing me with your eyes.”

How was it possible for a grown man who was a combat-proven Starfleet officer and obviously not unexperienced in the bedroom to blush so often? The redness rose up his neck and settled on his ears where it stayed for a considerable amount of time. On somebody else she would have called it cute. But even in her head, she would never use the word cute and his name in the same sentence.

The afternoon session turned out to be a huge success. On her part at least. She let Shebal finish his talk and address one polite but unsubstantial question. Then she moved in. She started out harmlessly enough with an inquiry about the experimental conditions. The Andorian’s answer was almost an exact quote from his publication. Perfect. From there she barged in, aiming question after question. She actually rose to her feet at one point, while keeping the innocent air of someone just curious about his research. Necks turned. All eyes in the auditorium switched between her and Shebal. The air took on a slightly electric quality. It felt like a duel. The Andorian’s face displayed two increasing blotches of darker blue. His antennae stood up straight. There was a furious glint in his eyes.

Isabelle never addressed it directly, but everybody with half a decent brain could understand her point: Shebal’s set-ups were not exactly based on pure scientific principles. His experiments just happened to confirm time after time the superiority of the Andorian species. Not that he ever put it into words that bluntly. Readers of his work would inevitably come to this conclusion. Oh, and he was a clever one. His answers were so evasive and slippery; it felt like wrestling with a bunch of earthworms.

In the end, the chairman ended their discussion. They had already exceeded Shebal’s time limit for several minutes. The scientist left the stage and found his seat without looking at anyone.

Isabelle sank back on her chair. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Her face was hot, but she felt elated. She had taken him on and she had obviously succeeded. Most people in this room would take a closer look at Shebal’s work and spot the political agenda it was founded on. Some of them might take note of her. The chances of her lab participating in future interstellar projects had just risen considerably.

Reed beside her looked anything but happy with her public display. His familiar frown had returned. When they locked gazes, he briefly shook his head. Oh, he was such a terrible killjoy. Perhaps it had been part of his job description. Isabelle simply smiled at him and turned her attention to the next speaker. This was her triumph. She would not let him spoil it.

As it turned out, that was exactly what he had in mind. Only seconds after the door of their quarters had closed behind them two hours later, his face darkened.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on attending the social event this evening.”

“Excuse me?” In fact, she had almost expected something like this.

“I looked over the itinerary and the setting. It’s much more widespread than the welcome reception yesterday. I cannot vouch for your safety there.”

Isabelle shortly closed her eyes to keep them from rolling. He was only doing his job after all but, hell, could he be annoying about it.

“They do have their own security here, have you ever thought of that? And in case you’ve missed it – I’ve just fought a battle out there, and I’ve won. I’m not going to miss the celebration. Or the spoils.”

Reed crossed his arms. His lips were already pressed together in the thin line she knew so well by now. “I think you’ve put yourself in the spotlight unnecessarily. That could be dangerous.”

Isabelle threw out her arms. “Everybody already knows I am here. It’s my first personal appearance on interstellar ground. I’ve got to make an impression.”

“In my opinion, you positively overdid it.”

She was just about to snap back instinctively, when a thought crossed her mind. “You do notice we’re having the same fight over and over again, don’t you?”

His right eyebrow almost climbed up to his hairline. “You don’t say.”

“Why don’t we just pretend that we’re already done with it and have come to a conclusion?”

Reed cocked his head. “How so?”

“Well, you held your tedious lecture on security risks, how not to trust anyone and never feel save, ever. I gave cheeky replies, probably containing some sexual innuendo, thereby hurting your antiquated sense of propriety. You got really cranky eventually almost losing your temper. Then I suggested certain compensations for when we return from tonight’s event and you finally succumbed, although you owed it to your dignity to do so reluctantly.” Isabelle could not resist a big smile. “So, it’s all settled.”

For some moments, Reed was actually lost for words. He stared at her, lips slightly parted, still processing what she had so eloquently put to words. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Seems like you really have thought this through.”

Isabelle shrugged. “Piece of cake, actually.”

“I do not have an antiquated sense of propriety.”

“Then why did you sleep on the couch?”

“Self-preservation.” An honest answer, if she had ever heard one.

“Well, there’s no need for it anymore. Do we have a deal?” She put one hand on her hip and raised a suggestive eyebrow. Better to make him think hard about certain compensations. It worked. His gaze shortly flickered over her whole body before settling somewhere on the floor to his right.

“Fine,” he spat without looking up, probably despising himself for it.

“Great. I’ll get ready then. Could take some time.” In passing, she put a hand on his upper arm and leaned close to his ear to say: “We don’t have to stay long if you are so eager to get back to your conjugal duty.” She planted a soft kiss on the right side of his neck, then made her way to the bedroom. A victorious grin spread over her face as she heard him cursing under his breath behind her.

The feeling of triumph and invincibility carried her through all the preparations for her grand entrance. She had brought her best dress along. Miraculously, it had been spared in the explosion. Unfortunately, everything else in her luggage destined for tonight was gone. No perfume, no makeup, no fancy shoes. Well, the shoes were not exactly a loss. Her injured knee prevented her from wearing anything with heels anyway.

She opened the small bag Hoshi Sato had kindly lent her. It contained one tube of mascara and a lipstick that was not exactly her color. It would have to do. Though Isabelle did not put on makeup on a daily basis, she could not wear this dress without it. Her cousin had made it for her and it fit like a glove. It was cut from a shimmering soft fabric in a vivid reddish purple. The narrow skirt ended just below her knees. Actually, she could remember every single time she had worn it in the past. It made her feel special.

She pinned her hair up in a proper bun before bowing her head to tie the broad neck holder straps. The lipstick was definitely too red for her liking. It might look good on Ensign Sato with her pale skin. On her it looked horrible. So she rubbed it off, only leaving a slight reddish hue. As a finishing touch, she attached her nametag. Critically, she looked herself over in the mirror above the sink. She could just imagine cousin Anouk wrinkling her nose about Isabelle’s presentation of her piece of art. Alas, it could not be helped. It was not her stylish looks that had earned her the invitation to this conference.

As it turned out, she did not need to worry about her appearance. She got an approving look from her fake husband before the familiar vertical line settled itself once more between his eyebrows. 

“I thought I told you not to distract me during my work,” he said, inspecting a small scanning device before putting it into his pocket. “Having to watch you in that dress all evening. It borders on torture.”

Isabelle smiled. Only Malcolm Reed could compliment a woman on her beauty with the air of someone who had just been insulted by it. “Thank you, I guess. Who would have thought my strapless bra would become a security risk after all? But don’t worry. I’m not planning to take the dress off myself.”

The look he gave her made her search for her shoes immediately. It suggested that if they did not leave right now, they would not leave at all. Or at least not for some time.

Outside, the evening air smelled of dry leaves. The dazzling sunlight had a hint of gold mixed into it. A gentle breeze caressed her bare shoulders. Feeling Reed’s eyes on her for the whole walk, Isabelle had to admit that she was rather looking forward to certain compensations as well.

They had been at the main conference building for exactly twenty seconds when a Deltan professor approached her. He complimented her on her audacity. Before she could even start a conversation, he respectfully made way for the distinguished Yawael of the Rigelian science academy. Up close, she looked even more ancient. Isabelle respectfully bowed her head in the traditional Rigelian greeting. She had been following Yawael’s work since she had been a student and admired the scientist a great deal. She also could not help thinking of Yawael as “her”, although she knew Rigelians had five sexes.

“That has been a fine display of reasoning, Ms. Dubois,” Yawael said, after shortly nodding her head in response. “I’ve been watching Shebal’s publications for a while now. It worries me to what ends our field of study could be used.”

“I couldn’t agree more, professor. There should be nothing political about the way we communicate our results.”

Yawael tilted her head. The wooden beads on her front braids made small clicking sounds. “How odd that you of all people should say that. To be honest, I had expected the stir for your talk tomorrow. I’ve heard you had quite a hard time lately because of your recent publications. There even was a bet if you would attend the conference at all.”

For a second, Isabelle was lost for words. There had been two attempts to murder her. One of them had left her best technician with second degree burns all over his left side. And some of the scientific community possessed the serenity to place bets on her attendance. Well, Yawael had been in science for over eighty years. She probably had seen a lot.

“It has been a couple of rough weeks,” she admitted finally. “But I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” They had slowly made their way to the patio during their conversation. Isabelle could see now what Reed had meant with a widespread setting. The access to two staircases had been opened. They led down from the patio to a garden. The conference participants spilled all over the area with its low stonewalls, geometrically arranged pebbles and hedges of hard leaved bushes. Food and drinks were offered on numerous locations. There was even some music floating towards them from a distant corner. Isabelle instantly loved it. On the down side, she could also understand why it qualified as a security officer’s nightmare. It would prove impossible to keep a track on everybody.

“Anyway,” Isabelle picked up on their conversation. “I consider the discussion with Shebal a test run for tomorrow. They can throw any question at me now. I am prepared.”

Yawael smiled. “I wouldn’t have expected less from you. It will undoubtedly be one of the highlights of the conference. Your work is rather adventurous. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I have been one of the reviewers recommending it for publication.”

How should she respond to that? She could not think of any higher praise, coming from one of the pioneers of their discipline.

“I feel honored,” she managed to say finally.

“Don’t mention it. Just keep on your toes and give them a good show tomorrow.” With that she bowed her goodbye to Isabelle, gave a short nod in Reed’s direction and descended into the gardens.

Isabelle still felt a little thunderstruck. She watched the old scientist join a group of Vulcans and disappear behind a stone arch.

“We shouldn’t stand around up here like an aim during target practice.” Well, if it wasn’t her favorite

Lieutenant, keeping his eyes straight on the job.

“Right.”

They did not even make it down the staircase before they were addressed again.

“You really do have some guts, young lady.” According to her grin, Natala was enjoying herself. She instantly reminded Isabelle of Phlox. There already was a glass of the infamous green liquor in her hand. “Don’t mind me sticking around this evening. I just want a chance to talk to all the important people, while they marvel at you.” She looked Isabelle up from crown to toe. “You look nice.”

Isabelle laughed. “Thank you, and feel free to step in if I’m lost for words.”

“Now there is a scenario I can’t imagine.”

Isabelle thought back on Yawael’s unexpected confession. “You’d be surprised.”

The next two hours flew by in a whirl of faces and names. Although Isabelle stayed clear of the Andorian ale, she soon felt intoxicated by all the attention. She nursed a glass of pale wine and tried to stay focused. She was actually glad that she was not alone in this. Natala jumped in on several occasions giving her time to compose suitable answers. To her surprise, even Reed’s presence did not distract her. On the contrary. His constant alertness half a step behind her right shoulder was like some kind of reassurance. He was watching her back. That took one worry off her list.

When the three of them suddenly found themselves on their own in a far corner of the garden, Isabelle leaned against a single stone pillar and let out a big sigh.

“I don’t want to complain about the attention, but that was exhausting.” The last sip of wine in her glass was lukewarm and slightly bitter.

“But you secured a cooperation with that last one,” Natala remarked. The Denobulan scientist seemed as fresh and good-humored as the moment they had met her. Not a single drop of sweat had appeared on her ridge-framed forehead.

“We have been striving to establish collaboration with Professor Straalk for at least three years now. Apparently, it takes the total devastation of an Andorian’s reputation to gain a Vulcan’s attention.” Although the sun was nearly setting, the stone behind her back still eradiated the heat of the day. For the first time this evening, Reed had left her side. He stood several meters away, scanning the whole compound with his eyes. Everything about him looked tense. Isabelle felt a small smile cross her lips. Malcolm Reed might possess many talents but subtlety definitely eluded him.

“Ah, don’t pity Shebal,” Natala said. “He will come back from this. They always do.”

“You’re sure?” Isabelle craned her neck. Just around the next corner she saw him talking to one of his Andorian colleagues. Most other participants did not seem to notice him. “I hope that won’t be me this time tomorrow.”

“No way. I can imagine some hostility, but I would say the scientific community is divided on the topic. That includes supporters as well.”

At that moment, Shebal turned his head and noticed Isabelle’s attention. She would have expected a spiteful glare at least but he just raised a white eyebrow, gave a short nod and made his way to the next table offering fresh drinks.

Isabelle frowned. “He doesn’t seem to be very mad at me.”

Natala grinned. “I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not accustomed with Andorian mating rituals, are you?”

Isabelle could not believe her ears. “Mating rituals?”

“In Andorian society it is often the female who initiates romantic relationships. Being an inherently violent species, they can be quite determined, even aggressive about it. An actual fight, physically or verbally, is not uncommon in the process.”

“Hold on a minute. You’re telling me Shebal might think I’m coming on to him?” Damn those Vulcan databases. They provided only the sparsest information on their long-term arch enemy.

“Well, you defied his advice about Andorian ale yesterday. You openly challenged the almost sacred way in which the ale is consumed. You smiled quite a lot last night, and today you all but butchered him in front of a live audience. You are an attractive woman. In his place, I’d be at least a little intrigued.”

Isabelle fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. Instead, she stared down at the white pebbles in front of her shoes. Great. More complications. Just what she needed right now. Although, deep down, she was flattered. Having two men being sexually interested in her. It felt like the good old times when she had just started university and was open to any kind of adventure. And one of them belonging to an alien species she knew almost nothing about… Under different circumstances, she might certainly explore this possibility. She was an exoanthropologist after all. There was nothing wrong with a little bit of field research. In her current situation, however, getting too chummy with Shebal would not be advisable.

“But he must have noticed that I didn’t come alone.”

Natala emptied her glass with a thoughtful expression. “Judging on last night, I don’t think he considers your husband any kind of competition.”

A small chuckle escaped Isabelle’s lips. “Perhaps I should give Shebal a warning about that. Otherwise, he could be in for an unpleasant surprise.” The security team’s training session was still vivid in her mind.

Natala’s eyes wandered in Reed’s direction “He seems like an odd match for you, if I may say so. Rather on the restrained side. He doesn’t enjoy being here, if I’m correct.”

“You most certainly are.” He had not moved from his lookout position. As the daylight faded, flying luminescent orbs appeared all over the garden. They hovered just high enough to be out of reach. Isabelle instantly thought of technologically advanced sky lanterns. One of them was moving in their direction, followed closely by one of Reed’s skeptical looks. Watching him, Isabelle could clearly see how he was itching to take out his scanner. That man could find a possible security risk in virtually anything.

“Is there a reason why he’s always on guard?” Natala asked.

“There actually is.” Isabelle was well prepared for that kind of question. “Following the publication of my last paper, there have already been two attempts to kill me. There seem to be a shocking number of xenophobic fanatics left on Earth. That’s why he insisted to come with me. He’s quite protective, you know.”

A knowing smile appeared on Natala’s face. “You cannot be married for long, the way he looks at you.”

To her surprise, Isabelle felt a flush of heat on her face. Some things were obviously not so easy to conceal. “Yes, it’s quite recent.” There! That had not even been lying. Great-aunt Aurélie would be proud of her.

At that moment, Reed became aware of their attention and left his post.

“I hope you’re not talking about me.” He wore a surprisingly non offensive shirt this evening. It was the same pale blue color as his eyes. He had rolled up the sleeves halfway to his elbows because of the heat. It actually suited him – if you ignored the fact that it clashed with his ghastly trousers.

Isabelle flashed him a smile. “What else should we talk about?”

“In fact, I was just about to ask how you two met,” Natala added.

Reed and Isabelle shared a brief look. Now would be the perfect time for their cover story – if they had one. Unfortunately, Isabelle had been so occupied with the conference and the things going on between them that she had not given it any thought.

“We met through work,” Isabelle blurted out, before the pause in the conversation became too awkward. It was the truth after all.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in science, too.”

“He actually isn’t. His expertise lies more in the security department.” Oh no, that sounded way too conspicuous. She slightly squeezed his arm. She needed help.

Natala’s eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“I’ve developed an EM-barrier for the containment of sensitive biomaterial,” Reed said. He even managed a nervous smile. “Isabelle’s laboratory was among the first to give it an extensive field test.”

Isabelle let out a breath she did not know she had been holding. That had been amazingly quick thinking. Who knew he had it in him? She also was surprisingly struck by the sound of her name. He never had called her Isabelle before. Time to divert attention.

“I don’t know about you two, but I definitely need another drink,” she exclaimed.

That statement met an enthusiastic response from the Denobulan scientist. They left their secluded spot by the stone pillar in search for the next bar. They found it soon enough. Although Isabelle felt more than ready for a drop of that ale, she picked another glass of wine. She felt a little lightheaded already. Today, she needed her wits about her. Somewhere behind her left shoulder, she heard Natala ask Reed if he never drank any alcohol. His answer contained something about the heat. Then Natala mentioned EM-barriers, which she obviously knew quite a lot about. Isabelle did not stick around for the reply. 

With Reed’s attention temporarily elsewhere, she found a secluded spot only some meters away under a cedar-like tree. It promised a short but well-earned respite. The grey bark felt rough through the thin cloth on her back. She took a sip and closed her eyes for a moment, the glass like an icy flower in her hand.

“Too busy to have a drink with me today, Isabelle Dubois?”

Her eyes flew open just in time to see Shebal stepping out of the shadows. She almost felt relieved. Her heart had most certainly skipped a beat. Perhaps Reed’s constant sermon on looming danger was beginning to sink in. In the dim light, the Andorian’s white hair and brows stood out against his blue skin. She could not see if he was smiling. She had not learned to read his antennae, yet.

“What about right now?” Isabelle raised her glass in a half-mocking salute.

He did not lift his drink. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to disturb you. There are most certainly more dignitaries around who haven’t complimented you tonight.”

Isabelle laughed. “Actually, I was hoping to escape them for a while. You could scare them away for me if you like.”

This time, she saw the smile on his lips. He bowed his head. “Far be it from me to decline a lady’s wishes. I’ll stay then.” Shebal raised his glass and took a hearty swig of his ale.

Isabelle mimicked the gesture but not the smile. Natala had been quite right. She should not encourage him any further. But how to go about it without offending him?

He looked her up and down before speaking again.

“There is something I’ve been asking myself. Perhaps you can answer it for me. On Andoria, a common term for humans is ‘pink skins’. While I can see how this might be fitting for your companion, I just wonder about you. Your skin is not what I would consider pink.”

“Well, I suppose the humans who made first contact with your species happened to resemble my husband in this regard.” She slightly stressed the word ‘husband’. Better to remind him of her marriage. “So you just assumed that we all looked like that. Actually, we humans come in all kinds of colors from palest pink to brown to almost real black.”

Shebal arched an eyebrow. “Remarkable.” He raised his hand and let it rest ever so lightly on her bare shoulder. Isabelle froze but did not back away. His fingers felt surprisingly warm. Slowly, they drew four burning lines down her arm. Still Isabelle did not protest. His strange touch paralyzed her but not in a bad way. There was a mocking smile on his face and a challenge in his eyes.

The sound of quick footsteps to her right startled her. A hand seized Shebals wrist and broke their contact. “That will be quite enough.” Reed’s voice did not sound angry or furious but perfectly icy. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Even though his wrist was still in Reed’s grip, the Andorian remained unimpressed. “I had not realized you were in a position to decide that.”

“Better start now.”

Isabelle could not fully understand Shebal’s reply. It definitely contained “pink skin” and “pathetic”.

Reed said nothing. He just twisted Shebal’s wrist, eliciting a sharp hiss from his opponent. On the outside he looked perfectly composed, but there was a dangerous flash in his eyes Isabelle had never seen before. Time to intervene. She put a hand on his upper arm. How tight those muscles were under the blue cloth. “You don’t want to get us into any trouble.” The last thing she needed right now was attention from Acada Prime’s security. Regulations were very strict to keep the outpost safe for everybody. Any disturbance of peace was sanctioned with exclusion. That could not happen. Not less than twenty-four hours before her talk. “Malcolm.”

Fortunately, her message got through. With a disdainful sound, Reed released Shebal’s wrist. Cold eyes bored into hers. 

“This party is over.” He did not raise his voice, but the snarling British drill sergeant was back again. His hand closed around her arm, steering her away.

Isabelle did not dare to protest. She was busy enough keeping up. It was either that or being dragged away. She actually managed to keep a straight face, smiling apologetically at Natala, when she caught her eye. God knew what the Denobulan thought of them after that display.

On the stairway to the conference center, her left knee started to hurt. She tried to slow down but his grip was hard as steel. So she bit her lip and moved on. At least until they had crossed the large square and were entering the path to their quarters.

“You can let go of me now.”

Nothing happened. His eyes still were fixed straight ahead, his jaw set tight. At that rate, her right arm would sport a dark bruise tomorrow.

“Malcolm, you’re hurting me.”

That finally got through. At once he released her and took half a step back. Isabelle rubbed her arm. She wanted to shout at him. What the hell had he been thinking, making a scene like that? Ridiculous and totally over the top. Then their eyes met and the words got stuck in her throat.

“We’ll return to our quarters now.” He did not need to take a hold of her. His stare alone kept her in place. 

Isabelle felt the sudden urge to make a run for it. She thought of the precise movement that he had twisted Shebal’s wrist just enough to cause pain but not any injury. Then her logic kicked in. There was no need to panic. Lieutenant Reed would never harm her. But she was not so sure about the stranger walking beside her right now. A side glance showed her nothing but a frozen facade. No chance to know what was going on behind it. When it came down to physical strength or speed, she was no match for him. Resolutely, she pushed the thought away.

Luckily, her confidence returned with every step. Was it jealousy? She could easily deal with that. Rage about her sudden disappearance? Likewise. A combination of both? No problem. When she set her foot on the first step leading up to their door, she was ready for anything, good or bad.

Reed confronted her the moment the door had closed behind them. His pale eyes narrowed.

“Tell me _Professor_ , is it all just a bloody game to you?”

Isabelle did not respond, but she did not back away either.

“Do you think I am just here to keep you company? Have you listened to anything I’ve told you?” He drew closer with every sentence, till there was hardly a foot of air left between them. Their eyes were nearly at one level. “But you don’t have to play by the rules, do you? No, you’re the brilliant beautiful scientist. You get them all with your wits and with your smile. Well, let me tell you something, Professor: You’re also rude. You’ve got no respect for anybody. And it might not be wise in the long run to toy with us lesser creatures excessively.”

Before Isabelle could even decide if or how she should react, he got her pinned against the wall with one hand on the base of her throat. They had practiced the same position during their training sessions. It knocked the wind out of her momentarily. His face had not changed. He still regarded her with the same cold rage.

“You think you don’t need any protection. Just free yourself.”

Isabelle did not move. Whatever point he wanted to prove, she would not play along. It would anything but calm him down if she tried to escape. This was not the man who blushed at the sight of panties. So she just stayed. She had wanted him to lose it. This was what she got. She was not afraid. His fingers did not actually choke her. They just kept her in place. 

“Free yourself,” he told her again. “I taught you how.”

Isabelle swallowed hard against the pressure on her throat. Then she raised her chin. “I don’t want to.” He liked to keep her under control? Well, he could have it. At least for now.

For some moments, nothing happened. Her pulse throbbed against his knuckles. In his eyes she could see fury and lust battle against his ever present self-control. This time, it did not stand a fighting chance. The moment it gave out, he kissed her hard, crushing her against the wall. It was more of a claim than a kiss. She could almost taste his anger and, yes, his jealousy. He had hidden it well, but there it was. It did not surprise her.

What did surprise her was her body’s reaction to him. It answered instantly, making her kiss him back fervently. She inhaled deeply to get as much of his scent in as possible. It made her stomach flip and a heat rise between her thighs. When he bit her bottom lip, a moan escaped her and she reached for his butt to press him even closer.

His hand left her throat, travelling down her side till it almost reached the hem of her dress. He grabbed the cloth to tug it up, but the skirt was cut so narrow it would not go higher than mid-thigh. She more felt than heard his frustrated growl, then he simply turned her around. He did not need more than one experienced movement to spin her, pin her upper body against the wall and shove a knee between her legs.

Isabelle got the wind knocked out of her again. The fabric of the wall scratched roughly against her left cheek, but she was far from complaining. That dress needed to go. As soon as humanly possible. Fortunately, that was exactly what Reed had in mind. In next to no time he had untied the knot behind her neck, drawn down the zipper and pushed the annoying garment down to pool around her ankles. As she stepped out of it, his fingers were already dealing with her underwear.

Standing there stark naked against the wall without the possibility to reach him should have left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. The thought did not last long enough to take a hold. It simply evaporated when he sucked her neck. She drew in a sharp breath and closed her eyes. Soft whimpering sounds built in the back of her throat. She could not hold them back. Being kissed directly on the spot where her neck met her shoulder always made her melt inside. She would never tell him, but had he chosen a different approach that morning, they might not be standing here right now. A shiver ran through her when his teeth grazed her skin. He had small sharp teeth and she felt them nibble all the way up her neck to her ear. A soft bite on her earlobe made her arch into him.

She still could not really touch him, so she leaned back as far as she could and rubbed her bottom against the bulge in his trousers. He could be jealous all he liked, but right now she wanted him.

That did not seem to be what he had in mind. He shoved her upper body against the wall once more, keeping her in place with his left forearm. The message was clear. She was not supposed to do anything.

Under normal circumstances Isabelle might have protested. Reed, however, chose exactly this moment to bring his fingers into the equation. His right hand dropped all the way from her stomach right between her thighs. Isabelle gasped. Yes, she remembered those fingers on her and in her. And, yes, she had already suspected them to be really skilled at that kind of work. She just had not anticipated what would happen if he really put his mind to it.

He knew exactly where to stroke, when to rub, how fast to thrust, and how to brush a fingernail ever so lightly over her most sensitive spot. Twice he added a precisely measured slap making her cry out with the sudden arousal flashing through her whole body. And all the while he carelessly sucked, licked or bit the side of her neck. In less than five minutes he had her panting and clawing the wall. A helpless moan escaped her mouth with every breath. She could not care less. If that was what she got for being rude, she would start insulting him constantly.

It turned out, Reed also knew exactly when to stop. Isabelle was only seconds away from coming violently when his hand withdrew. At first she did not get it. She thrust her hips forward to find it again. She met nothing. His hand had already gone back to her stomach. He just stood there holding her tight while she groaned with frustration. Everything between her thighs throbbed. She was all slick and wet. His fingers on her belly were wet, too. Why had he fucking removed them? She wanted them back. Right now.

Isabelle started to struggle then. Anything to get him back between her legs. His grip only tightened. She could not break free. She could not turn around. She could not even touch herself because he quickly caught her wrist.

“Don’t!” Apparently she had even lost the ability to form a full sentence. “No. Please. I need-“

“What do you need?” His voice sounded all deep and rough. His lips were almost touching her ear.

Isabelle bit her tongue. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear, and right now, no pride kept her from spitting it out. “I need you.” There it was. _Congratulations. You’ve proven your point, Lieutenant._

Reed released her instantly. Finally. She span around reaching, wanting all of him at once. Her right leg wrapped itself around his left, bringing her crotch in much needed contact with his thigh. Her lips busied themselves with his throat while her fingers searched urgently for the buttons of his shirt. He had far too many clothes on him.

She managed to open his shirt halfway before he intervened. Taking her by the forearms he began to steer her towards the bedroom. Excellent choice, though by now she would not mind the floor. Well, he knew the way, so she did not have to stop tasting the side of his neck. There was quite a bit of salt from the heat mixed with something she had not tasted on him before. An exciting hint of danger.

He certainly had not chosen to treat her any more gentle than before. The back of her knees had hardly brushed the edge of the bed when he threw her down on it.

“Don’t move,” he told her and began to undress. There definitely was something intimidating about the way he gazed down on her. His eyes never left hers for one second. That did not mean, however, that she would keep still. Reed would be far too disappointed if she just obeyed.

So Isabelle pushed herself just a little towards the top of the bed, rubbing her thighs together most suggestively. When she saw him frown, she propped herself up onto her elbows. That way she could fully enjoy the sight of his pants coming down.

The next moment, he was already on top of her. Isabelle’s heart skipped a beat. God, he was fast.

“I told you not to move.”

Isabelle risked a sneer. Underneath him was already right where she wanted to be. “I do not follow orders, _Lieutenant_.”

His frown never faded while he parted her legs with his knee. “That’s the whole problem, isn’t it?” With that he entered her, filling her completely with one swift stroke.

Isabelle threw back her head. Yes, this was exactly what she needed. All of him inside her, only withdrawing to drive right in again. Reaching up, she ran her hands over his back. He really was all muscles and bones. No superficial body mass, no superficial movements.

She had no chance for more explorations, because he once again caught her wrists pinning them down on either side of her head. Ah yes, she briefly had forgotten that he was the one in charge. As long as he kept up that slow delicious rhythm, there would not be any complaints from her.

She struggled a little regardless. Not to break free of his grip – which was a hopeless endeavor – but to turn him on. If he was so bent on disciplining her that way, she wanted to give him all the more reasons. The line between his brows deepened. His jaw still was set tight. There would be definitely no gentle kisses tonight. Not even hungry or passionate ones. He would only kiss her to hold her in place, his tongue matching the movement of his cock inside her stroke for stroke. Should she feel bad about enjoying this? She moaned into his mouth trying to edge him on.

Wouldn’t it be time to speed things up a little? It felt so good but she wanted more. She wanted to touch him. She wanted him to pound into her fast and hard. She wanted to come screaming with her legs wrapped around his back and her nails digging into his shoulders. He did not let her. He solely continued this tantalizing alternation between fucking her steady and controlled and withdrawing completely to tease her entrance with the tip of his cock.

Isabelle’s moans began to sound impatient. She tried to grind against him, regaining some sort of control. What was he playing at? He was driving her mad. Slowly and deliberately. Her body was aching for release. It just needed a little bit more.

“Don’t hold back,” she finally exclaimed. “Just fuck me.”

The first smile of the evening ghosted over his lips. He suddenly lay completely still, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Lifting one eyebrow he gave her a reprimanding look. “Has nobody ever taught you any manners, professor?”

Isabelle groaned. _You damn smug British bastard!_ “Just fuck me, _please_ ,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Instead of complying, Reed let her go and sat back on his knees. She followed him right away. Perhaps she could ride him again now. Her hair had come loose from the bun in a wild mess. She pushed it out of her face and took the chance to run her hands over his firm chest. But he clearly did not like to be touched tonight. Once more, he quickly caught her wrists.

“I don’t think so.”

With one decisive movement, he turned her over on her hands and knees. One of his arms wrapped around her waist. His other hand grabbed her hair. Isabelle gasped. That felt awkward. Once again she found herself unable to move and completely at his mercy. Before she even thought about complaining, he plunged into her, hard this time, reaching deeper than ever. Isabelle could not help a sharp cry. That was definitely what she had asked for. She did not try to do anything anymore. He had taken away control from her completely. All she could do was to hold on.

This time, nobody could accuse him of holding back. His thrusts came fast and rough, hitting a sweet spot inside her every time. She panted, moaned, whimpered, it was all the same and she just did not care. If this was his way of teaching her manners, she definitely needed some lessons.

Suddenly, a dull ache from her left knee distracted her. She tried to shift all of her weight to her right leg. This could not last long. They were nearly there. Both of them. Reed’s hand let go of her hair to come down on the mattress beside her. His breath was hot and ragged against her neck. She heard him growl, a guttural sound that made her clench around him even more. It obviously was too much. With two final thrusts he drove himself as deep as possible, almost pushing her over. The moment he came he bit down hard on her shoulder. Together with his cock buried deep inside of her, the sudden stinging pain tipped her finally over the edge. She screamed out her release in a mixture of pleasure and pain, then collapsed on the covers.

Reed tumbled down with her, breaking his fall with his hands, so that he did not crush her completely. He had not drawn out of her yet. They stayed like that for a minute, riding out the final waves of their orgasms. When the twitching between her legs subsided, he rolled off her.

Isabelle lay there feeling totally spent covered in sweat and other stuff. While her breath calmed down, she noticed a dull throbbing pain on her right shoulder. That bastard had totally marked her. And thanks to his ludicrous security protocols, she did not even have a scarf in her bag to cover it up for tomorrow’s talk. She turned her head.

Reed lay beside her all flushed. A strand of dark hair was plastered against his forehead. All menace and discipline seemed gone for the moment. She just could not bring herself to be mad at him right now. Damn that. She would leave it for tomorrow. Perhaps she would take the chance to demonstrate that her manners still left much to be desired.


	15. Amends

Malcolm Reed woke up to the feeling of a warm body beside him. There was no touch but the promise of it should he only move a little bit. In the dreamy state between sleep and full alertness, it felt just right. Like a memory from long ago.

When he turned his head, something tickled his face. He opened his eyes to the dark tangle of Isabelle’s hair. That settled it. He was definitely not in San Francisco. This was an alien planet and the woman beside him was not a former girlfriend, but a person he had orders to protect. For a moment, the thought sounded absurd. You did not wake up stark naked next to an assignment.

He drew in a deep breath, committing her smell to memory once more. Darkly he recalled her slipping out of bed late last night for a visit in the bathroom. He must have fallen asleep before she had returned. That was hardly a surprise. He had been honestly exhausted after…

With a jolt Malcolm sat up, suddenly wide awake. The realization of what had happened hit him like a punch in the gut. All of his anger, his frustration, every blow his ego had received by her sharp tongue, accumulated and stored up for days, had suddenly broken free. Every detail came back at once in excruciating clarity. How he had pinned her down, shoved her against the wall, even grabbed her hair in a final attempt to take possession. He really had subdued her, made her his own. Those had been almost vengeful kisses. In the end, he had not even cared anymore if she came or not. His teeth and fists clenched at the memory. That was not his way of sleeping with a woman. He really had lost control badly this time.

His first instinct told him to leave. If not completely, then at least the bed. When his feet touched the cold floor, his gaze got stuck on a tiny red light in the bedroom corner. The sensor worked restlessly, registering every change in the gas composition of the room. The knot in his stomach clenched even tighter. He had forgotten to report to Ensign Socorro. Had he been completely out of it last night?

Malcolm retrieved his main scanning device from the pocket of his trousers. They lay in a pile on the floor with the rest of his clothes. That barely caused a headshake at that point. They were merely the last piece of evidence that he had totally lost it.

Unbelievably, Socorro had not tried to contact him. She had simply logged the nighttime readings and sent the summary back to him. As if her superior officer had not neglected his duty for the first time in years. What would she think of him now? Suddenly, he asked himself what Socorro could actually extrapolate out of the registered biosigns. Better to signal her that her shift was over and to temporarily cut the connection. 

Lazily, Isabelle turned over in her sleep. She curled up on her left side, her face towards him. On her right upper arm he could see three bruises that looked suspiciously like the imprints of his fingers. They were nothing compared to the purple mark on her shoulder. If he looked close enough, Malcolm could make out the faint outline of teeth on its edges. His teeth. That was not a love bite. It was a bloody injury. It looked horrible. Like she had been ravished by some savage brute. Something in him recoiled with disgust.

But she had never told him to stop. If he knew one thing about Isabelle Dubois by now, it was that she did not do anything she did not want. It was a small relief, but a relief nevertheless. He distinctly remembered her demand to just fuck her. At least he had not done something unforgivable.

Perhaps he should make up for it, though. He could not leave it at that. His bad conscience demanded it. And he had always been a man of action rather than words. Words could so easily turn awkward. The right ones never came at the right time, if at all. So he put down the scanner on the nightstand and returned under the covers.

The early morning light did nothing to conceal the fine lines around Isabelle’s eyes. The ones that deepened when she teased him. Right now, however, she looked completely at peace. An exceptional sight to be sure. For a moment, his hand hovered just above her hair. He had to do this right. What if she only woke up to turn him away? What if she chose to ignore their agreement and reported him? No. That last thought was only his paranoia talking. Why would she sleep so close to him, if she was offended? As she had pointed out correctly, the bed was huge. There was space enough to avoid an unwelcome bedfellow.

Before his doubts could get the better of him, Malcolm brushed back her curls and planted a soft kiss just below her right ear. He had already identified her neck as a weak spot. Why not exploit this information to his advantage? He worked his way down millimeter for millimeter, aiming for her throat, not her shoulder. Eventually, she should turn on her back. Eventually. There was no need to rush. He had to give her time to wake up completely before he moved to more delicate areas. Plus, no moment spent kissing that soft skin could be considered a waste.

As his lips moved over her jugular, she began to stir. One of her legs brushed up against him. It made him tingle in all the right places. Isabelle let out a sigh that ended in something like a purr. Malcolm smiled. That was a most promising sound for now. Indeed, he wanted to elicit all kinds of sounds from her before this was over.

Time to allow his hand to feel up the whole length of her. Fortunately, she had not even bothered with underwear when returning to bed last night. There were no sharp edges. Her body was all made up of lovely curves and felt firm and soft at the same time. He could not resist the temptation to squeeze some of the fleshy parts. Her hip, her thigh, her splendid bum. He could spend an hour alone letting his fingers trace the slope of her waist, but his own pleasure was not the objective here.

She clearly was not averse to his touch. Instead, it caused her to wriggle some more, pressing herself against his palm. Next, her fingers began slowly raking through his hair. He more felt than heard another purr from the depth of her throat. Perfect conditions to move in.

It took no more than a gentle push to turn her on her back. Now the road was clear for everything he had in mind. So his mouth began his descent over her collarbones towards her breasts. Just a stopover on his way to his ultimate destination, but Malcolm felt he had shamefully neglected them the day before. They were soft and just the right size to fit into his palm. Her left nipple stiffened almost instantly between his lips. Taking his time, he let his tongue swirl around it a couple of times before taking it deeper into his mouth.

When he looked up, he caught her looking back at him. Her lips were slightly parted. She enjoyed this. The lingering sleepiness in her eyes could not conceal it. She liked watching him sucking her breast. The realization sent a jolt straight to his groin. It was enough to turn his halfway erection into a full hard-on. That would not distract him now. He could deal with it later. In the present he kept their gazes locked ensuring her attention. Then he licked her nipple slowly but thoroughly before adding a short bite out of the blue.

Isabelle’s eyes closed instantly as she drew in a sharp breath through her teeth. Her pelvis gave a little jerk rubbing against him most pleasantly. Ah yes, he had reached the next level of desirable reactions. Her hands followed suit. They were all over his shoulders, his arms, his neck, while he turned his attention to her other breast. He soon succeeded in adding soft moans to the list of sounds escaping her. His hand pulled away the covers. Time to go for the final target. Malcolm blew a good-bye over her sensitized wet nipple then kissed his way downwards over her squirming belly.

Her thighs parted at the slightest touch. Goosebumps rushed over their skin from the cool morning air. He settled himself right between them. No need to speed things up now. Not with his goal in full sight. And a fine sight it was for sure. He knew how she felt down there by now. Now he wanted a taste as well. He placed a hand on the inside of her knee. Sliding it upwards, he felt her shiver with anticipation. Smiling, he followed his fingers with his lips.

His body vehemently called for an end to this torture. The woman clearly was hot and ready for him. Why not shag her all over the bed until they came undone in a panting tangle of sweat-covered limbs? Oh, it was tempting, but Malcolm would not have it. This was about her. First and foremost about her. Should she still want to shag afterwards, he would be all too happy to oblige.

He had not enough discipline left, however, to keep his slow pace. His mouth skipped the last few inches and dived right in. The first stroke of his tongue drew a whole new category of moans from her. Louder and definitely more arousing than ever. She tasted almost like she smelled. Spicier with a hint of bitterness. Inviting enough for him to fully dedicate himself to his work. Nobody would ever accuse him of not knowing what to do with his mouth between a woman’s legs.

He started tracing his tongue slowly and firmly over her most sensitive spot a few times, before picking up the pace. Isabelle’s body tensed. Her legs twitched of her own accord. Malcolm would have smirked, had his lips not been engaged otherwise. He finally established a rhythm between sucking and licking the hard swollen knot of her clit, carefully varying speed and intensity. A whole string of most delicious noises washed over him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Isabelle’s hand clench tightly around a fistful of sheet. Her other hand reached for the back of his head burying itself in his hair.

Malcolm knew he was good at this. The in-bed part had never been the problem in his numerous short-lived relationships.

Isabelle was practically whimpering by now. By that and by the way she was clawing his scalp he could tell that she was close. This time he would not deny her anything. On the contrary. Without stopping his tongue, he slid three fingers inside her, pushing as deep as he could go. Isabelle gasped. Malcolm had to suppress a groan himself. She tightened so hot and wet around his knuckles. A gap that was begging to be filled. Later. It was her turn right now. He returned to licking her slowly but hard. Then he pulled out his fingers almost completely before driving right in again. Three more thrusts like the first and her hips buckled. She came with a sharp cry, arching her back, holding on to his hair as if her life depended on it.

His fingers stayed right inside her. He quite appreciated the twitching and quivering he had caused. The satisfying result of a job well done. As it grew weaker, he pressed a parting kiss on her clit and raised his head. He was met with an amused twinkle in Isabelle’s dark eyes. Her hand left his hair to cup his cheek. A thumb brushed over his wet bottom lip.

“You’re enjoying married life far too much, Lieutenant.” She still sounded out of breath.

“Just shut up,” he growled. Words only gave rise to arguments between them. He caught her thumb between his teeth, giving it a short suck.

A devious smile spread across Isabelle’s face. “Make me.”

And so he did. This time there was nothing vengeful about it. Instead, it was a mutual exploration of bodies and places where it felt best to be touched. Their exploration took on quite extensive measures. It was all the better because he made her cry out three more times on the way.

In fact, they managed to be late for the first session of the day again.


	16. Deadline

When Isabelle Dubois looked into the mirror around 1400 hours that day, it was her turn to frown. She had put up her hair in a tight bun. She had closed more buttons on her shirt than her sense of fashion allowed her to. Yet any resemblance of professionalism was undone by a love bite that would put a teenager to shame.

Okay, it was not fully exposed. But half of it was already more than she was willing to display during such an important occasion. Some parts of her talk would be recorded, for god’s sake.

She could not wear her hair down. She never did, speaking in front of so many people. It would make her far too hot. Two perfectly suitable scarfs were just circulating Acada Prime out of reach on a space ship. There was no make-up. Isabelle let out a sigh. She had to face the ugly truth. She was screwed. Literally. 

Her first talk on interstellar ground and she looked like she had been in some tussle with a snappish watchdog. Well, she actually had been. She was feeling quite sore in her most delicate places. Reed might be small as far as height was concerned, but that did not hold true for all parts of his physique. A slim smile flickered across her face. Who would have thought that Lieutenant-by-the-book-Reed could make her body hum like one of his fine-tuned security devices? The smile just refused to disappear. On second thoughts, there were several meters between her and her audience. If she was lucky, nobody would even notice the purple bruise peeping out of her neckline. The only one bothered by it would probably be her.

“Time to escort the black sheep of the Dubois family to the highlight of her career,” she stated, as she entered the parlor.

Reed looked up from his ever-present PADD on which he analyzed all his gathered data. “Your talk isn’t scheduled for another half hour.”

Isabelle grabbed her own PADD. “I know, but I like to be there early to prepare. Getting a feel for the venue, trying the perspective from the stage, transmitting my files. Wouldn’t it be convenient for you, too? You could check for explosives or other fun stuff. I’m sure you’ll find something to amuse yourself with.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. I’m just surprised. You don’t seem to care particularly about being on time.”

“Only when I have nothing better to do.” Where had her shoes disappeared to? They always seemed to be gone when she needed them. “And don’t you dare to be smug about it,” she added with a warning look.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” There was a slight curl at the left corner of his mouth, however. It did not escape Isabelle’s attention. Well, perhaps he had earned the right to a tiny bit of smugness that morning. Right now she did not care.

It took quite an effort to slip on her shoes. Her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. Isabelle let out a big exhale. She was nervous. No use in denying it. So instead of checking her presentation for the umpteenth time, she leaned against the cool wall and watched Reed gear up. Isabelle had to suppress a smile. You could actually see him longing for a phase pistol. In default thereof, two scanners and his communicator went into the pockets of his jacket. It was the ugly one she had banished two days ago.

“Sorry to insult your eyes again,” he said, noticing her distained look. “But it’s the only way to bring everything without drawing attention.”

Isabelle pursed her lips. “It’s probably for the best. Perhaps that embodiment of bad taste can divert observant eyes from the disfigurement you left on my shoulder.” 

He fleetingly bit his lip. “I’m truly sorry for that.”

She chose not to reply. Leaving him a little embarrassed could not hurt.

Outside, the white sun blazed from a cloudless sky. Isabelle squinted her eyes and hurried down the stairs towards the shaded path between the buildings. Before her foot touched the last step, a mechanic chirping cut through the air. She turned around to see Reed reaching into his pocket to retrieve his communicator. A deep frown settled on his face.

“Reed here.”

“Socorro here. Enterprise tried to contact you, but could not get through the energetic shielding around the compound. They demand to speak with you immediately.”

“What’s it about? We’re on our way to Prof. Dubois’ talk right now.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Sir, but Captain Archer was insistent.”

His lips settled into a thin line. “Stand by, Ensign. I’ll get back to you.”

“I could just go to the conference center on my own,” Isabelle suggested quickly. “Surely they won’t keep you that long.”

Reed shook his head. “That’s out of the question. I cannot leave you unprotected. Not now.”

“But I don’t have time to go to the shuttelpod with you. Under no circumstances will I be late for my own talk!” The sun did not help her keeping a cool head. She already felt herself breaking a sweat. Quickly she stepped into the shade.

He did not even pretend to listen or even look at her. Instead he fixed his gaze on the wall beside her, his forehead in deep wrinkles. Then he gave one of his sharp little nods.

“We just switch. Come on.” With that he took her by the arm and steered her along the path.

“We’re going in the wrong direction,” Isabelle protested, but instead of answering, Reed opened the communicator again.

“Meet us at the access lock at once, Ensign. We’re on our way.”

“Aye, Sir. Socorro out.” The communicator disappeared into his pocket again.

“What are you planning?” Isabelle shook off his hand and crossed her arms. She would not move one step further without an explanation.

“Socorro and I will switch places. Now hurry up, we don’t have much time.”

“But Socorro is not supposed to enter the compound.” What happened to the tactical officer obeying every rule to the last letter?

“Could we continue this discussion on the way? It’s your time ticking away.”

The edges of the PADD dug sharply into her fingers. “Fine.”

On their way to the access lock, Reed explained his plan. “After personal registration the scanners at the entrance only register the nametags. I will simply hand Socorro my nametag and she can accompany you to your talk while I get in contact with Enterprise. Afterwards, we switch again.”

“But couldn’t this get us into all kinds of trouble?” She had a bad feeling about this. It could turn out wrong in so many ways. His jaw was set so tightly, it almost hurt to look at it. “Malcolm?”

“Don’t think I’m taking this risk lightly. I just don’t see any alternative. I can’t leave you alone and you can’t miss your talk. I will advise Socorro to keep as much in the background as possible. But even if we get caught, it won’t happen till after your talk is through. Is that good enough for you?”

What else could she do but nod? “It will have to be.” He never took anything lightly. She would have to trust his assessment. Making quick decisions in uncertain situations was part of his expertise after all. 

It took them five minutes of brisk walking to reach the access lock. Isabelle made it on gritted teeth fueled by nervousness alone. Every step shot a needle up her injured knee. Why had she not taken some of the painkillers as a precaution earlier? The back of her shirt began to feel rather sticky. Great, not only would she turn up without enough time to prepare, but also already stained with sweat. She headed for a relatively cool place in the shadow of a small tree near the gate. 

“This should only take a minute. Don’t leave till Socorro is with you. Do you understand?”

Isabelle nodded. She was not stupid after all. Reed seemed unconvinced.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, eyebrows drawn together. A thin film of sweat shone on his forehead. “Don’t move. Is that clear?”

Isabelle swallowed a groan. “Yes, _Sir._ ” Why did he not get on with his ingenious plan?

“We have to work on your tone, Professor.”

“Whatever. Now hurry up. I’ve got an academic riot to start.”

With a last check of the vicinity, he approached the gate and placed his nametag in front of the scanner. The wings of the lock opened at once. In the hot midday air, they did not make a sound. Isabelle could not help feeling a little exposed as Reed vanished through them.

She heroically refrained from checking the time. No need to get even more worked up. Instead, she watched a tiny flying animal gliding from roof to roof. It appeared to be some kind of mammal, obviously hunting the translucent flies. Swarms of them hung in the air like small glittering clouds.

After what seemed like an eternity, but were actually only two or three minutes, the lock glided open again. Socorro stepped through, the nametag safely secured on her chest. At the sight of her, Isabelle instantly knew that their plan was going to bust. Indeed, the ensign did not wear her blue Starfleet overall but what she wore instead was not much better. Her tight tan shirt and khaki pants screamed uniform at everybody getting only a fleeting glimpse. The mission patch on her left sleeve only sealed their doom. Perhaps she could convince Socorro to wait outside.

“Good to see you,” Isabelle said nevertheless. “I fear we’ve got to fly.”

The security officer did not waste any time on greeting Isabelle with more than a short nod. She looked completely composed and neither anxious nor worried. Admirable.

Isabelle gave herself a push and started to walk. If they were lucky, they would make it just in time. There was another problem though. She was not entirely sure which way to take to the conference center. Yes, in the end every path leading towards the middle of the compound was fine, but she needed the shortest one. At the second crossing she stopped, searching for any kind of sign. She could spot nobody to ask, either. There was no way to tell which path to choose. Isabelle frowned and turned to her escort.

“Mr. Reed surely briefed you on the layout of the facility. I have to find the quickest route to the conference center. What do you think?”

“I think you could run,” Socorro suggested. She sounded perfectly calm, as always. Then an expectant smirk spread over her face. “But I’m afraid it won’t help you.”

Isabelle never saw it coming. Before her brain could even start to wonder about the ensign’s reply, her legs were kicked out from underneath her. She went down. There was no time for a surprised scream before the ground hit her with a thud. There was no air, no thought, not even fear. Only the outline of a woman in a dust-colored uniform moving terribly fast to close her hands around Isabelle’s throat.

It was the PADD that saved her. She had not let go of it. Save her data. Save her work. The instinct was hard-wired into her nerves. As was the reflex to wield it defensively against her attacker. The edge of the metal casing hit Socorro right in the eye. A sharp cry of pain and Isabelle was free. With the first gasp of air the panic finally kicked in. Isabelle struggled. She had to get up. She had to get away. Fast. Before Socorro shook off the pain. Sirens started howling in the distance. Or was it just the blood thundering in her ears?

Somehow she got to her feet. Somehow she started to run. Somehow she even made it a couple of steps before a hand gripped her disheveled bun and yanked her back so hard, Isabelle could hear her own neck creak. A band of steel wrapped itself around her throat. It actually was Socorro’s arm, but it made no difference. She did not stand a fighting chance. Two sessions of half-hearted training could never prepare her for this. She could not move. She could not breathe. She could not try to break free because her feet barely touched the ground. The wailing of the sirens drowned in the thumping of her heartbeat. Far away her nails tore through dust-colored cloth. Even farther away her heels thrashed weakly. Up close the light began to fade. Black clouds rushed in and clogged her sight. She felt everything drain away. Her chest burned like fire. What a fucking way to go.

Then suddenly there was an impact. The sound of a body slamming into another one. The grip around her throat disappeared. Isabelle fell. Stone scraped against her palm, her arm, her cheek. It did not hurt. Not in comparison to her first breath. It did not even reach her lungs before she coughed it out again. For the next seconds that was all she could do. Coughing, gasping, and coughing again. In between, she barely noticed two people fighting next to her. Boots kicking flesh, fists meeting joints. A painful groan as a blow hit home.

All of a sudden, hurried footsteps closed in from everywhere. A sharp voice yelled something that did not make it through the fog in her head. Isabelle could not even look up. Inhale powdered glass, cough, gasp, breathe out again. Nothing else mattered. The flash of an energy weapon cut through the chaos. Somewhere there was the thud of a limp body hitting the ground. Then more voices and a hand touching her shoulder. She did not even flinch. It was not important. Breathe in, cough, breathe out… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid posting is going to be slow in the future. But be assured those chapters will come. They are all planned and partly drafted. That homeschooling is completely wrecking my nerves and writing time. Not to speak of the urgent wish for a Vulcan mind clearing technique...


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